


Because Music Inspires

by The_Peddler



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Random Song Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 47,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Peddler/pseuds/The_Peddler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A challenge collection for you Newtmas fans.<br/>Message me your favourite song, or one you'd like to see a short fic made out of. I will create a short single chapter story using either the words or meaning from the song.<br/>I've put it down as Mature just in case, and haven't issued any particular warnings, but I can't say what might come up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Contents

**Author's Note:**

> My first prompt for Meli - 'I Want To Break Free' by Queen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very helpful request from Cpt.Wonka led to a contents page.  
> Obv this is technically chapter 1, so they are all out by 1 but you get the idea. 
> 
> Sorry if I've misspelt any names :/ Any new requests will be added to here so I CANNOT miss them.
> 
> Tankies :D
> 
> @apeddle90

1 - Queen - I Want To Break Free for Meli

2 - Demi Lovato - Don't Leave Me for Skytop

3 - Thousand Foot Krutch - Take It Out On Me for Ghost

4 - Ed Sheeran - Thinking Out Loud for Cranky4Newtmas

5 - Archive - Bullets for Connyinthemaze

6 - Christina Novelli - Concrete Angel for Gaysintheglade

7 - Obala - Flamingosti for Prokleto Krvavi-Stihovi

8 - Kings Of Leon - Sex On Fire for Newtmas4ever

9 - Lana Del Rey - Dark Paradise for m.

10 - Taylor Henderson - When You Were Mine for TheMikeSpecter

11 - Bastille - Torn Apart for NewtmasObsession

12 - Fall Out Boy - Centuries for Deni

13 - Jason Mraz - I Won't Give Up for Colin Winchester

14 - Sia - Breathe Me for JJ

15 - Rihanna - We Found Love for Sabina Rose

16 - Parachute - Forever & Always for Allia

17 - Evanescence - Bring Me To Life for SuicideSerenade

18 - Daughtry - Battleships for Sorayaoi

19 - My Darkest Days - Save Yourself for aMerePeasant

20 - Shiny Toy Guns -Stripped for Raven

21 - Ed Sheeran - Give Me Love for Merlinear

22 - The Cab - Angel With A Shotgun for Lison 

23- Beth Crowley - Warrior for Maggie

24 - Nick Jonas - Jealous for 50shadsof_fandoms

25 - Shakira - Can't remember to forget you for Demios

26 - Bastille - Things We Lost In The Fire OR The Birthday Massacre - To Die For (undecided which one to do yet) for Evie

27 - Justin Timberlake - Mirrors for Cmpunker101

28 - Broken Iris - Forever More for Lison

29 - Ashe - 1925 for Marukaite Ark

30 - American Authors - Best Day Of My Life for CannibalisticLion

31 - Fall Out Boy - American Beauty/American Psycho for Sparrow

32 - All Time Low - Six Feet Under The Stars for Yolocaut

33 - Bring Me The Horizon - Sleepwalking for Awkward_potter

34 - Coldplay - Sky Full Of Stars for islandgurrrl1999

35 - Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know for Newtmas94

36 - 5SOS - Wherever You Are OR Amnesia (undecided which one to do yet) for Nemthos

37 - The Script - Flares for The+Random+Reader

38 - Secondhand Serenade - Fall For You for _įⓂ️ãＧℹ︎ｎäＴℹ️

39 - Marina & The Diamonds - Savages for E.J.


	2. I Want To Break Free

"Oh this one is gorgeous! What do you think Thomas?"

Thomas suppressed a sigh as he glanced at what had to be the fiftieth dress Sonya has picked up that morning. It was a deep sapphire dress adorned with violet diamante.

"Yeah its nice." Was all he could muster, though his girlfriend seemed just as delighted as she had been to all his other responses to all the other dresses.

"Look, they've got my size too! Hold these, I'm gonna go try it on!" She squealed, loading him up with three large shopping bags before bounding off to find the changing rooms. Thomas trudged after her, in the hope of a seat for the horse-pack men of these kinds of shopping trips. He couldn't even say what Sonya had already purchased, not paying the blindest bit of attention as she flew from shop to shop. It was all he could do to keep up.

It was their graduation year, and their senior prom was next month. It was supposed to be a year of joyful celebrations, but Thomas felt nothing of the kind. He had dated with Sonya for just over a year, and he found it insufferable. It wasn't her fault, she was beautiful and funny, but constant, and needy - a weight that he had felt strapped on him from the moment they got together.

From the start of high school, Thomas had never given thought to his sexuality. He felt attracted to no-one but, appreciating beauty in both men and women, he privately tagged himself as bisexual. He was fine with that, but as the school years went on, the pressure piled on top, and he found himself unable to present himself in such a way. He was, as school society labelled him, a jock. One of the star players of the school's football team, and a contender on track, he found himself swept up in the social expectations of his role.

His buddies consisted of the rest of the football team, and he had been the last singleton in a group of socially acceptable couples. Each 'jock' pairing up with either a cheer-leader or another popular girl in the year. Thomas became the butt of their jokes, his friends inquiring what exactly was between his legs, and the peer pressure mounted on. That was when he had asked Sonya out, and since then he had been less happy than what he was before.

It wasn't until they slept together for the first time, that Thomas realized he was not bisexual. The act of making love was just that, an act. He felt no attraction to the body that lay under him, nor any will or enjoyment out of the activity. That was that, he was gay. But he wasn't meant to be gay. He was supposed to get a beautiful girl, lose his virginity early, and brag about it to all his mates. He was supposed to bring his team to victory as his girlfriend cheer-leader rallied him on. He was supposed to be in contention for Prom King along with his Queen Sonya.

But he didn't want any of that.

Slumping down on the chair outside the hanging rooms he started curiously looking through the bags. One was his suit, he had let Sonya choose it - an idea that his credit card would later regret, the girl didn't scrimp, another thing he felt the pressure to uphold. His suit was a midnight blue with silver highlights on the lapels, _very twilighty_ , he thought, not that he could care less. The rest of the bags were full of a range of accessories and shoes for Sonya, she couldn't decide what she liked best so bought a whole variety; perfect for Thomas to lag around. 

His mental scowling was brought to a halt when his phone bleeped a notification, he checked it to see a text, smiling when he saw the name. 

_**'Tommy! Hows the excursion? Still alive? ;)'** _

The smile stuck on his face as he sent back a reply.

**_'Its awful, nearing wrist-cutting point rapidly. Help!'_ **

Newt had been his secret best-friend for three years. He was an academic, a lover of history and literature, his head always buried in a book whenever Thomas saw him. They had never spoken to each other, their social circles never mixed, and it was only when Newt was appointed to Thomas for tutoring that they had gotten acquainted. Thomas was failing at Maths, badly, and Newt was to save him. 

Even before his first tutoring session, his mates teased him over it, 'have fun with the boffin' and 'welcome to the geek squad'. His time with Newt did start off awkwardly, neither sure what to talk about, and instead buckled down with the work. However, by the end of the third session, they had discovered many films and shows they both followed intently, and Thomas found out that Newt enjoyed watching him do sports. Not just anyone, _him._ It was a slip on the tongue on Newt's part. The studious boy was gay, it wasn't something he hid, people who knew him, knew it too.

Thomas should have cut ties with the boy then, but he couldn't, he liked him too much. They started hanging out together after school, or on any weekend Thomas wasn't expected to show up at some stupid party. They would watch films, eat pizza, and just chat. Thomas loved it, he felt free with Newt, like he could tell him anything. And he did. After his disappointing encounter with Sonya, he confided in the blonde bookworm, announcing his homosexuality. Newt had clapped him on a shoulder, congratulating him, and Thomas felt on top of the world. 

He had always found Newt attractive looking back, hell even hot. His golden hair, a mess that somehow always looked styled, deep rich brown eyes adorned by thick-rimmed reading glasses. He was lithe, yet toned, and Thomas secretly appreciated the boy's physique. It wasn't long after he had confessed that he realized he had fallen in love with Newt. He was in love for the first time. And this time, he knew it was for real. Yet he couldn't bring himself to reach out, not so much out of fear from rejection, but fear of what might entail. 

That was six months ago, and he had been pining ever since. There should be no problem, he was gay, Newt was gay, but that was the problem. As far as everyone else knew he wasn't gay, he was a young testosterone filled athletic star with a beautiful girl on his arm, the was it was supposed to be. He felt trapped, confined, and he didn't know how to break free, as much as he wanted to. It wasn't fair on him, and it wasn't fair on Sonya. 

His phone bleeped again, another message from Newt. Thomas read it eagerly.

**_'I've fallen down my stairs, and my ankles facing in a direction it shouldn't. There's no-one else at home, and I'm scared. ;)'_ **

Thomas grinned, Newt's story was of bad taste, but it would do the job. Sonya finally exited the changing room, adorned in the dress. "What do you think? Its so pretty isn't it!"

Looking her up and down he couldn't disagree, the dress fitted her naturally, and the colouring contrasted nicely against her pale skin. 

"You look beautiful." He stated honestly.

She squealed, "Ohhh I knew it! This is the one I think, so far. There's still some more shops to check out though, I'll ask them to reserve it whilst we look."

"I have to go." He didn't mean to sound that abrupt, but the thought of more shops made his blood turn cold. Why couldn't she just buy the bloody dress?

"What do you mean you have to go?" Her arms held out at her sides, a look of non-believing on her face. "We haven't finished shopping yet!"

"I know. Its a friend, he's fallen down his stairs and broken his ankle. I need to go help him."

"Oh no!" Sonya carped "Who is it? Will they still be able to play football?"

Thomas rolled his eyes at the ridiculous assumption. "It's not a football player, it's Newt."

Recognition slowly dawned on her face. "The geek?"

"Uh... yes?"

"Well doesn't he have family, or can't he just call the hospital? Geez. I don't even know why he has your number."

Thomas fought back the anger. She had been perfectly okay with him helping a fellow jock out, but not some 'geek' she didn't even know. 

"His family are out, and he's scared."

"Can't he call one of his book buddies?" She retorted coldly.

He'd had enough. "Well he didn't he asked me okay? He has my number because were friends okay? I need to go and see if he's okay... okay!?"

She eyed him coolly, "Fine. I'll carry on by myself then. Take those bags back to yours, I'll pick them up tomorrow." And with that she turned on her heels and left without another word. Thomas felt more relief than he thought he ought to.

* * *

 "Someone called for medical attention?" Thomas joked as Newt opened his front door to let him in. Newt just laughed at him before walking back inside. The blonde was dressed in lazy Sunday attires, loose fitting grey track bottoms and a dark green hooded jumper. The bottoms hung low on the hips, and the top was tight fitting around the slender torso, it took a lot of effort for Thomas not to just openly stare. Instead he followed Newt into his living room where he sat down on the sofa next to his friend.

"So how was your day?" Newt asked him in a mockingly house-wife tone, his lips artfully formed into a smirk. 

Thomas took hold of one of Newt's mother's scatter cushions, hugging it to his chest. "Awful... I don't know if I can do this anymore. Thanks for bailing me out. I'm eternally grateful."

"No problem Tommy, you look terrible though. Can I get you anything? Drink? Food?"

Thomas shook his head before a thought entered his mind, he meant to bat it away but his lips mouthed the word before he even realised it. 

"Hug." His voice was nothing but a whisper, and for a few seconds neither of them moved, and he feared he had put his big stupid foot in it. But Newt only smiled before wrapping his arms around him, pulling him into a cuddle against the back of the sofa. Thomas instinctively rested his head on the blonde's shoulder, gently squeezing the warm body close to him. He felt all the tension and frustration from the day seep out of him as Newt massaged his back.

"I'm sick of satisfying everyone else's criteria Newt." He confessed, his mind taking advantage of his relaxed position to confide his inner most troubles. 

"You don't have to Tommy." Newt replied simply, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Thomas wished he could be like his friend, between the 'jock' and the 'nerd' it was the nerd who was the braver. He felt secure in his arms, safe and protected, and dare he say - loved. "Newt?" He asked quietly.

"Yes Tommy?"

He pulled back to look at the handsome face, inches away, his lips looked so readily kissable. Thomas felt his face grow warm at the closeness, nut he forced himself to stay. "I- I don't want to play this charade anymore, I can't. I don't want to be with Sonya - I.." He stumbled on the words, his throat dried up and he could only open and close his mouth like a fish. 

Newt gave him a warm smile, his brandy eyes glimmering behind the lens of his glasses. "What is is Tommy? Tell me." The grip on Thomas' hands tightened, encouraging him to continue.

"I-I want to break free. I... I want... I want to be with you Newt." He whispered. 

The warmth of Newt's lips on his own made his mind flash white. The kiss was hungry but loving, Newt guiding Thomas through it with his tongue, making him moan into his mouth. They broke only for air, but Thomas dove straight back in, taking advantage of Newt's flushed state, and gaining back the advantage. Hands stroked up under his t-shirt, and he broke the kiss, a groan purring from deep within his throat. 

"I thought you'd never bloody ask Tommy." Newt said, his breath heavy and laboured. "Are you sure you want this? Us?"

Right then Thomas had never been so sure of anything else in his whole life. "I can't live without you by my side."

They stayed like that all day, and all night. The next morning they both walked into school holding hands, and Thomas finally broke free.

 

 

 

 


	3. I Hate You, Don't Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Skytop - I Hate You, Don't Leave Me by Demi Lovato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the prompt, tricky one this, hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> @apeddle90

"Newt babe, whats wrong? Tell me." Thomas' voice, so full with concern that it tore at Newt's trembling heart. It was three in the morning, and he sat hunched in the darkness of their kitchen, a mug of tea gone cold in his hands.

He had awoken with Thomas pressed close up against him in the same way they had fallen asleep together the night before. Only it had felt overbearing, too hot and uncomfortable, the closeness that had felt so comforting now only riled him. He escaped into the kitchen to try and gather his mind. Newt had been battling a mental war for the past couple of months, one that he didn't understand.

The kitchen light flickered on and he shielded his eyes from the sudden brightness, his world going red for a few seconds. Once the effect had lightened he slowly opened them. There, standing next to the light switch was Thomas with a face to match his voice. Newt looked down, he didn't deserve such a wonderful boyfriend, it annoyed him that he cared so much.

Thomas walked over to the opposite side of the breakfast bar Newt sat at, reaching out to hold the blonde's hand. Newt recoiled, bringing the mug of tea with him, clutching it to his chest, keeping his eyes down so he couldn't see the hurt look on the other's face.

"Don't touch me."

"Hey, its just me Newt. Tell me what the matter is... please?" He whispered the last word with a pained emphasis.

Newt stared into his mug, watching the liquid move as he jigged his legs in an anxious rhythm.

"I hate you..."

He could feel Thomas' stare bore into his skull. He didn't even formulate the words before he spoke them, they were just there - ready on the tip of his tongue.

"Newt... what do you mean you hate me? What have I done wrong?"

Nothing. That was what he wanted to say, because it was true. Thomas was perfect, too much so, nothing like anyone he had been with before.

"You're... you're just you. Tommy... I just... I hate you okay?"

"Look at me in the eye Newt. Look at me straight in the eye and say that again."

He gulped down the lump in his throat, and slowly raised his head to look at his boyfriend. Thomas was rigid, his face stern and closed off, his eyes bore into Newt like lasers. He forced himself to maintain the gaze, it tore at him somewhere inside but his mind shut it off. His eyes stung from threatening tears, but he kept them open, not wanting to cry in front of Thomas now.

"I hate you Tommy."

The cold exterior broke, and Thomas' eyes suddenly shone with disbelief. He physically slumped, looking like someone had kicked him in the stomach, and Newt couldn't look anymore. He stood up, and went over to rinse out his mug, not bothering to dignify the situation with another word. Thomas seemed to have the same thought, shaking his head with a hurt look on his face, he stalked back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him, making Newt jump.

"Its better this way." He whispered to himself.

* * *

 He didn't remember falling asleep, the bright morning sunshine bringing him back into the world once again. He was still sat at the bar, sprawled over the counter top, his back ached terribly. He stretched his arms above him, letting his muscles awaken before getting up to put the kettle on. He saw the mug that he used the night before, alone on the counter top. Whenever one of them couldn't sleep, the other usually ended up with them, drinking tea in the early hours of the morning, snuggled on the sofa until they drifted back off to sleep. But that didn't happen this time, because Newt had sent Thomas away. 

He sadly recalled his awful words, had he really meant those? Thinking now he couldn't comprehend them, how could he say that to Thomas? The man was the best thing that had ever happened to him, he had to apologize. 

"Tommy?" He called, knocking on the bedroom door before entering. The room was empty, Newt glanced at the clock on the bedside table, it was nearly eleven in the morning. _'Shit'._ Thomas would already be at work, as Newt should also be. Looking at the phone he saw three missed calls from his boss. _'Shit...'._ He called back immediately, blurting sorry excuses of sickness and fatigue and that he wouldn't be in until he felt better. Fortunately for Newt his attendance record was clean, and his boss was simply glad to know he was still alive, and wished him a speedy recovery

He hung up the call with a sense of relief, before his eyes gazed down to the bed. He froze. There lay a packed case, full of Thomas' clothes and possessions. It wouldn't take everything, but a quick scour through told Newt that most of his necessitates would be going with him. He half sat half fell onto the bed, clutching one of the packed jumpers to his chest, inhaling its scent. He hated himself, he opened his big mouth and now Thomas was leaving him, and he didn't even know why he said that he hated his Tommy. He could never hate him could he?

He spent the day pacing and wallowing. Several times he walked up to the suitcase, ready to unpack it and put everything back in its rightful place, in _their_ apartment. But each time he went to do it, he ended up stopping himself. What if it pissed him off even more? Then there would be no chance of rescuing the wreck he had made of their relationship. He cried a lot, he hated himself, he had driven people away before, but he didn't know how. Or why. 

He was deep in mental consultation when he heard the front door open. Rushing to it he met Thomas half way through the corridor, already aiming for his room. 

"Tommy! I-"

The man carried on past him without a word, entering his room, heading straight for the case. Newt stalked after him, already feeling desperate. Thomas was just zipping up the case when he entered, the sound unnerved him, the sound of something closing, something ending. "Tommy please, can we talk?"

"Now you want to talk? You didn't want to talk much last night. Not that you needed to." His voice was detached, he continued with his motions, lifting the now sealed case onto the floor. Picking it up he headed for the front door. "There's no point being with someone who hates me... I'll pick up the rest of my stuff in a few days."

He had nearly reached the door when Newt caught him. He wrapped both his arms around Thomas' torso, holding on for dear life, pressing his face into his back. "Don't leave me."

Thomas sighed heavily, dropping his case. He turned around and placed two hands on Newt's shoulders.

"What am I meant to do Newt huh? One minute you hate me, next minute you want me to stay?"

"J-just hear me out Tommy... before you run away. Please?"

It took a terrifying moment, but Thomas nodded, placing his case by the door. He held out a hand towards the living room, "After you."

Newt led him into the room, sitting formally on the couch, relieved when Thomas sat close next to him. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Newt not knowing how to start.

"So, I'm willing to listen to what you have to say, if you have anything to say?" Thomas prompted.

"I-I haven't been thinking right Tommy..."

Thomas gave him a perplexed look, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know!" He said in complete frustration. "I'm in and out of my head, I'm confused... and it scares me. You shouldn't listen to a word I said last night, cause I didn't mean it."

Thomas sat forward, putting his head in his hands, "And what about now? Should I be listening now?"

"I feel like... myself now yes. Thomas I'm not gonna lie... you terrify me. You are so perfect that I'm terrified one day you're gonna leave me all on your own accord. I've been abandoned so many times in the past, I couldn't take it if you left me."

"So why were you pushing me away?" Thomas looked exasperated, unable to comprehend what Newt was feeling, and that terrified him the most.

"Can we forget last night Tommy?" He pleaded. "Trust me, I love you, no matter what I say, always know that."

Thomas sighed heartily, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he looked adorably lost. 

"I don't know Newt... you must have a reason for saying what you did... somewhere deep down? We shouldn't continue if there's any sort of doubt in us."

Newt didn't know what else to do, how he could portray his true feelings. He had no doubt in his mind that this was the man he loved, more than anything. 

"Kiss me." He stated boldly. "Please."

Thomas smiled warmly for the first time that day, "You make it sound like a chore." He drawled, before placing his warm lips on Newt's.

The kiss was soft and sweet, and just what Newt needed. He couldn't say where the insecurities had come from, or the need to push this man away. He needed him, wanted him close. He deepened the kiss, trying to communicate his feelings to the other man. Thomas responded with throaty moans that reverberated through Newt's body. When the kiss broke he couldn't bear to pull back, keeping their faces an inch apart.

"We okay?" He asked weakly.

Thomas touched their foreheads together, "I love you Newt, always will. And I trust you to know you didn't mean what you said."

They sat like that for a while, engrossed in each other's presence, awarding soft kisses every now and then. Newt felt comfortable, but he couldn't relax, he knew something wasn't right. He loved Thomas more than anything, but he would never want to make the man feel so unloved again. "Tommy... I'm sorry."

"For what?" Thomas asked, lovingly stroking a finger up and down Newt's neck.

"If I ever say such a horrid thing to you ever again... I'm sorry."

"Newt..." Thomas started then stopped, sounding unsure how to continue. Newt just looked at him, encouraging him to carry on.

"I think you should speak to someone.... a doctor maybe?"

Newt blinked, "You think there's something wrong with me?" 

"Nothing _wrong_  Newt... but these thoughts of yours must be coming from somewhere? Maybe we can find out? Get help."

"I don't need help." Newt huffed defensively. "I just... I just need you Tommy okay?"

He expected Thomas to argue, to force him to do what he didn't want to do. But he didn't, because he was perfect. Instead he simply pulled Newt into his lap, and cuddled him whilst they watched an old movie. "I love you Tommy..." Newt mumbled as he drifted off to sleep. The deep chuckle from below him gently relaxed him. "Love you too Newt."

 

 

 

 


	4. Take It Out On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For TheGhostLegend - Take It Out On Me by Thousand Foot Krutch  
> (Never heard this song before and love it, so thanks!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm really slow on doing these. Work's been reeeeeally busy, and I just haven't had a lot of free time at the moment. You guys' are flooding with me requests which is awesome! So please 'bear' with me (Rawrrr! Ha!)... and I will definitely do a fic for each request I get. Just don't know when :/
> 
> @apeddle90

Everyone in the glade looked up to their second-in command, including Thomas. Ever since his first day the blonde had been there to help him through, explaining the maze and its ferocious inhabitants- the Grievers, and everyone's role in their close-knit community of survival. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when it became apparent Newt was like that with everyone, a shoulder to cry on, a beacon of light for those lost in the dark, a pillar of tremendous support. He like Newt, the boy was tall and lean, but well-built, warm chestnut eyes and aureate hair. He liked him a lot, and always felt happier in his presence. 

He always tried to act casual around Newt, but the blonde made it difficult. There was always a warm hand on his shoulder, or a gentle concern in twinkling eyes, and a closeness so Thomas could practically feel the other's body heat. Gally persistently teased him about it, his pining not as secretive as he'd have liked. Gally told him on several occasions that Newt liked him too, that he was treating him different from others, caring for him far beyond the duties of his position. Thomas couldn't believe him, he had never trusted Gally, the builder would take any opportunity to humiliate Thomas, and he refused to fall for it.

Weeks passed, and things began to change at a rapid rate. They had to banish one of their own runners, after getting stung by a Griever, Ben had attacked Thomas, ravaging him to the ground - ready to beat him to death. Newt had saved him that day. Not long after their leader Alby also got stung, and Thomas found himself trapped out in the maze with Minho and their unconscious leader that night. Somehow they survived the night, Thomas using the maze against its own creature, managing to kill one, the first person to do so.

He was so happy to see Newt after surviving that, but the blonde only looked tired, heavy bags under his eyes. Still, Newt held him in a tight hug, "Fuck you hero, don't ever do that again." He had whispered, before moving on. With Alby incapacitated, Newt reluctantly inherited the role of leader of the squabbling squad. Gally didn't trust Thomas, screaming for him to be banished, but Newt held his ground, instead permitting Thomas to become a runner, highlighting him as their only chance of escaping the maze. He had thanked their new leader for his support, but Newt had remained quiet and distant, and Thomas didn't like it.

Things got worse. After depositing them with what would be their last glader, an unconscious girl, the box that kept them in supplies once a week stopped coming up. Alby remained out of action, all runners besides himself and Minho resigned from their role, and as far as they knew their supplies had been cut. Everything was happening so rapidly all of a sudden, and some of the boys were beginning to crack, including Newt, but only Thomas could see it because he looked hard enough. Thomas was glad when he found a clue from the mechanical corpse of his slayed griever, with it he thought they may have found a way out.

Gally exploded at the news, accusing Thomas of wanting to lead them all to their deaths. He wanted everyone to stay where they were, to uphold their rules, and to banish anyone who disagreed. Newt kept quiet as the other keepers heatedly debated their situation. Thomas kept a close eye on him, he felt as if he was losing his Newt. The man who picked everyone else up when they felt down, who got stuff sorted and done, who always had a smile on his face was gone. Now he was a solemn figure, deep in frustrated thought and heavy responsibility.

Thomas and Minho had brought back the clue from the maze early that day, the sun still high in the sky. Newt disappeared quickly after the meeting, and Thomas found himself bombarded with questions and a very angry Gally. By the time he had cleared himself some space, he had no idea where the blonde had gone, but he had to speak to him. They had hardly exchanged a word recently, no warm touches, no smiles or winks, no friendly affection. It was all gone, leaving Newt an emotionless shell of the person he used to be, and Thomas hated it.

He tried The Homestead first, thinking he would be watching over Alby, but he wasn't there. Newt wasn't in the fields or the maze-room either, and he began to lose hope of finding him before remembering the small forest in the far corner of the Glade. Tucked away from everything else, Thomas used it to get away and hide when things got too tough. But Newt would always find him, and hold him, coercing him into a better state of mind before walking him back to his hammock. Once, after Ben's banishment, Thomas had refused to go back, blaming himself for the ex-runner's fate. Newt had left him only to return later, a blanket in his arms. He settled down next to Thomas and wrapped them both in the blanket, before nodding off to sleep.

"Hey Tommy."

Newt called out before Thomas even got within his vision. The blonde was sat leaning against the same tree they had fallen asleep together before. The trees were generously spaced out around them, the sun trickled though the sparse canopy, illuminating the floor under them. Thomas cursed his clumsily noisy feet, cracking twigs as he walked towards the leader. He sat down next to him, allowing their shoulders to press together, without saying a word. They stayed like that for several minutes, the silence palpable, until Newt couldn't seem to take it anymore.

"I thought I had things under control."

'Huh?" Thomas questioned. Newt hadn't opened up to anyone in so long, he was surprised when the blonde relinquished, and he didn't want to stop him. "What do you mean?"

"This..." He said weakly, gesturing to their surroundings. "The glade, being stuck here, trapped... I-I thought we made the best of it you know?"

"You did Newt." Thomas reassured him.

Suddenly Newt held his head in his hands. "I don't know... its all gone wrong. Why are we stuck here? What did we do to deserve this? I don't know if I can take it anymore."

Thomas' heart hurt at the words. Newt had always had a limp since the day he had met him, and on one of their talks in the forest, the blonde had confided in him the story of his injury. The strong ray of light for all the other gladers hated being trapped by the maze. He had been a runner, searching for a way out. He had been one of the first ones here, creating the structure of their tiny society. But he despaired at it, knowing someone had put them there, done this to them, and he had climbed to the top of one of the maze's walls. And he had jumped, wanting to end his own life. Only Alby and Minho knew the tale, and Thomas hated how everyone relied on Newt, even more so, how the blonde put on the show, putting everyone else before him.

"Newt you can't think like that." He rubbed the boy's back, trying to soothe him. "I wish you'd open up more, let people in. You shouldn't bottle it all up, its not good for you."

Newt pulled his head up, his eyes alight with tears, glistening in the sunlight. "I-I can't Tommy. I gotta be strong for everyone. Everything's fucking up and I can't keep it together."

Thomas pulled him into a tight hug, the blonde falling into him, unable to resist any longer. "Stop it Newt. What's happening here is not your fault- its not anyone's fault, don't beat yourself up over it. Its not worth it, and its not working."

Hands tightened on his shoulders as Newt pulled back, his face lit up with sudden anger. "Not worth it? Look around us, things are falling apart, and I can't keep them together! Whats gonna happen next? What if I do something wrong, make the wrong move?

"Newt its not over, don't give up and throw it away. You don't have to bare the burden alone, were all here for you. I'm here for you." He said in a serious tone.

"I'm afraid Tommy...I can't deal with this anymore!" Newt suddenly yelled, slamming his fist down onto the dirt floor.

A lump formed in Thomas' throat, this man had been there for him through all his dark moments, it was now his time to return the favour. He was terrified, but he forced himself to move. Holding Newt's face in his hands he pressed their lips together before he could doubt himself. The kiss was warm and sweet, but lasted a few short seconds before Newt pulled back, a look of confusion over his face that made Thomas freeze.

"Tommy... what are you doing! I'm stressed out to the max and you want to make out?!" His voice was getting louder and louder as he spoke, but Thomas held his ground. Newt had kissed back, he had wanted to, and there was no giving up now. Moving around to Newt's front, he moved in, trapping the boy up against the tree. Diving in again, he took advantage of Newt's shock, invading his warm mouth with his tongue. The pleasure shook through his body, Newt was strong and they battled for dominance over the kiss, the heat swirling between them like a burning volcano. 

They broke apart more gently this time, and Thomas placed a finger over Newt's lips before he could speak. "I don't want you bottling things up anymore you hear me? I'm here for you Newt, I can share your burdens. Scream if you want to, shout if you need to. Just let it go, okay? All your problems, and pent up frustration, I want you to take it out on me."

Newt nodded slowly, his eyes wide and his lips gently closed together as Thomas removed his finger, he looked adorable and Thomas melted a bit looking at him. His eyes widened as he felt strong legs wrap around his hips, and he found himself pinned in between them, his face inches from Newt's, their bodies flush against each other. Thomas groaned inwardly at the contact, he had been dreaming of this for too long, and he loved how it was him who could coax Newt out of his hard shell for this. 

The blonde gazed at him through bright brown eyes, he could see fear and anger there, but also something else, something that made him feel warm inside. 

"You want me to shout?"

Thomas was brought back to reality by the husky voice inches in front of him. Newt's lips mouthed the words flirtatiously, looking velvet soft and begging to be ravaged upon.

"Yes."

"You want me to scream?"

Thomas nodded. "Take it out on me." 

"Make me."

Thomas smiled at the offer, diving in to leave his mark on the swan white neck. Newt arched back, moaning at the contact, scratching fingernails up his shirt, ripping at the material. Newt would scream alright, Thomas would make him shout so loud the whole Glade would hear, and he didn't care. They both needed this, Newt especially, to just let it all out, and Thomas was more than happy to be the one to take it all on. 

That night he screamed as Thomas reached deep inside him.

That night he shouted as he reached his climax, only for the brunette to pull back, teasing him back down.

That night he fought, their tongues battling against each other in scorching confrontations.

That night he smashed his feet on the floor, knees bent as he ground down on his lover.

That night the walls to the maze did not close. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that wasn't too bad! I had so many ways of doing this running through my mind, yet nothing seemed to materialize on paper!


	5. Thinking Out Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For CrankyforNewtmas - Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I've been literally piled up with requests already :/ Umm... please hold, you are in a queue?  
> I will update this as often as I can but I think I'm always gonna be behind as I am getting 3 or 4 requests every time I get one done XD  
> Don't stop requesting though! Keep them coming, I love the response this is getting from you guys!  
> And as usual, I feel blessed by your wonderful comments :3
> 
> @apeddle90

A deep velvet blue gently faded to black above them, individual stars gradually appearing in the open heavens as they peeked back into existence. The happy couple sat close together against a large singular oak tree, atop the grand hill where their first date took place five years before. A moat of meadows encircled their tor, the sweet scent of mixed perennial flowers wafted through the warm summer night air, engulfing Thomas' senses. 

Now speedily heading towards his twenty fourth birthday, Thomas had dated Newt since they were eighteen after hooking up at a shared friends' own milestone birthday. It had just been a touch of a hand, an accidental brush when reaching for the last slice of their favourite pizza. Newt had the beginning of an interestingly beautiful and colorful tattoo sleeve climbing up his reaching arm. Thomas offered the blonde the last slice - in exchange for an explanation of the ink's origin and its story.

The two of them ended up spending the rest of the night in a corner, chatting away the time as if they had known each other all their lives. They shared the same favourites in books, television, music and film, and Thomas found Newt fascinating, his golden hair and warm cocoa eyes the highlights in a symphony of beauty. Newt also let it slip that he played the guitar, and Thomas - a drum player himself - demanded the other's number in promise for a future meeting of music and melody.

They had never been separate since, every spare moment was spent in each other's social circle, and every private moment was gloriously golden. They would play their favourite music together, chatting nonsense and laughing as often as they could, and pretty soon they were making a different kind of beautiful music all on their own. Five years later, and the pair were stronger than ever - now celebrating their time together, and the time they still had left to have. 

Thomas sat with his back pressed firmly against the gargantuan oak, his legs spread out before him. Newt nestled in between, reclining into him, his head laying on Thomas' beating heart. They had spent the whole day there, with only a picnic, Newt's guitar, and each other to amuse themselves. Thomas wondered how many other people could do that with the person they loved. To be so content and in tune with their partner, that near nothing else was needed. 

His mind wondered as his enigmatic surroundings shrouded his head in a daze of easiness, his fingers gently combing through Newt's hair. His mind recalled the mysterious way in which they had fallen for each other, how his love had never faded over time in the slightest. Instead it only started anew as he never failed to fall in love with the blonde again every single day. He was enthralled by the way Newt's eye's smiled from his cheeks, and how easily Thomas seemed able to sweep the man off his feet, and how lucky he was to find love with him.

"Do you think we will still be in love like this when were seventy?"

Newt turned his head round to give him a funny look, his eyebrow quirked up in its usual way - letting Thomas know he had just orated his thoughts.

"Where'd that come from?" Newt inquired, sitting up in Thomas' lap, a look of hesitancy on his face. 

"Just thinking out loud." 

Newt blinked twice, still unsure of where the conversation was going. "What do you think Tommy?"

He answered without a pause as soon as the question was put to him. "I'll be loving you til were seventy..."

A smile graced Newt's face as he placed a warm kiss to Thomas' forehead - its heat radiating through his face, swelling him in the inside. "I'll feel the same way about you then as I do now at twenty three Tommy."

With that, under the night of a thousand stars, Thomas took Newt into his loving arms and kissed him with all the emotion that he could. He knew that unlike them, their love would never grow old - it was evergreen, and their bright souls would remain together for an eternity.

"Hey Tommy..."

"Yeah?" 

"You've inspired me my lovable muse, I've got a song I'd like to play for you."

Newt picked up his guitar form where it rested against the tree beside them. Unlike Thomas' drum kit, the stringed instrument was much easier to bring along on excursions. His hand strummed the chords, his delicate fingers plucking a gentle thrum from the strings.

"Whats it called?" Thomas asked, his arms wrapped around the other's waist, his head hooked over a strong shoulder.

"Thinking out loud"

By the end of the night, Thomas had no more thoughts of how they had fallen in love. It was simple after all, they found love right where they were. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short I know, but hopefully sweet?  
> Hope its to your liking, I find cute harder to write than angst :/ 
> 
> Thank you for the prompt though, its not long, but I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> @apeddle90


	6. Bullets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely Connyinthemaze - Bullets by Archive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was tricky so I hope its satisfactory. The song is great, very complex but I think I got there in the end. Hope you enjoy it :3 Especially you Conny!
> 
> I've got a mega list of these to do now! Please keep them coming :D xxx
> 
> @apeddle90

The clock sounded each heavily passing second, the night seeping on for another eternity. It was too much time for Thomas, his mind using it to build up the frustrated rage that welled deep within him. Recently he found himself alone on most nights, trying in all his desperateness to figure out the enigma of his missing flatmate. He had shared a flat with Newt since they both graduated, splitting the bills and making living a bit easier on each other; they had been good friends for years, and it made perfect sense.

Six months later, and Thomas was struggling to find his best friend in the now strange blonde who shared his living space. What angered him most was the rapidity with which their ten-year relationship deteriorated. Within a couple of weeks of moving in, Newt became more and more distant. Morning conversations became a short greeting before the blonde was out the door, the friendly recap of the day's events over the dinner table became silence in front of the television, and their usual closeness and comfortableness with each other disappeared entirely. 

Initially Thomas had ignored the change, putting it down to the readjustment of leaving home and living with someone else; discovering the special quirks that can only be learned by sharing a residence. The way Newt would always leave a used mug on a side - never on a coaster, and Thomas' own shower singing 'talent'. After that he placed the blame on Newt's work, assuming stress was the cause of his growing coldness. Now sitting alone for the fifth evening in a row, Thomas reluctantly came to the sore conclusion that the problem must be him. 

Newt was now avoiding him at all possible costs. He was out the door every morning at the crack of dawn, and didn't come back home until nearly midnight - just to head straight for his bedroom. Whenever Thomas did manage to get up early enough to catch him, Newt would just grumble something about overtime and double pay before making a swift exit. Calculating up the time they actually spent together in the past week got Thomas no where more than an hour - tops. 

At first he felt only sadness at the loss of what had been such a strong friendship, now his sorrow had subsided into ever-growing anger. The unfamiliar warped black hole that was now Newt was confusing the hell out of him. The blonde was not giving him even the slightest hint as to what was wrong - and trying to understand was destroying him from the inside.

Was it him? If so then what did he do, or what was he doing wrong? How could he change to help? Was Newt okay? Did something happen that he was ignorant to? How could he help get them back to the way they were? So many questions flooded his head, in such a violent flurry, that it hurt. 

Tonight, he decided, was going to be different. Newt was not going to escape into his lair and avoid him, he was going to get an answer to his questions. The tension between them weighed heavily on Thomas' shoulders, enraging him to a point that scared him. But his anger also made him determined - a determination to break down the barriers and find an understanding in their relationship; to ease his burden. 

It was nearing midnight when the sound of the front door clicking gently shut brought him out of his turbulent thoughts. A sudden sense of doubt seeped into his veins as the possible confrontation suddenly presented itself. He glanced over to Newt's bedroom door, which he had barricaded with a large heavy bookcase. It had taken him over an hour to shift the hulking apparatus into position, and mayhap the gesture was childish, but it would do the job that was required. 

Newt stalked into the room, offering a disconnected "Hey" before heading into the kitchen, Thomas heard the sound of a glass being filled with water from the tap. He waited for the blonde to reappear in the doorway, glass in hand, before responding.

"Hey, how was work today? Another late shift."

Newt shrugged, taking a sip from his drink, "Yeah busy, I'm beat - gonna hit the hay."

Thomas hid a celebratory smirk as Newt stopped in his tracks as he veered towards his bedroom; noticing the barricade preventing his leave.

"What the hell?" Newt stammered. "Why is there a bookcase in the way of my bedroom?" He turned round to face Thomas who had stood up from the sofa to confront his roommate at a more equal height. 

"Were going to talk Newt. Remember that? That thing that friends do? Talk."

Newt visibly tensed, shifting his gaze to the floor. His whole body language shouted defense, and it hurt Thomas that the man would want to shut himself away from him so badly. It hurt, and it infuriated him.

"Talk about what exactly?" Newt's voice was quiet but cold, no friendliness in it at all. Thomas had had enough of playing it nice, now was the time for answers.

"About how you don't seem to want to be my friend anymore? How you can't seem to stand being around me? What's going on Newt? I have hardly seen you at all this week, and whenever I do you seem to be running away from me all the time. Have I done something wrong? Cause if  have please tell me so I can fix it. I'm sorry if I'm being ignorant, but I just don't know what's wrong! You keep pushing me away and I don'y know why! Please Newt tell me now!" He slammed a fist on a nearby table hard enough to quake an innocent wine glass to the floor - shattering on the ground.

He had heard his own voice getting louder and more enraged as he spoke. Each question, each point a bullet flying out of a loaded gun, trying to pierce Newt's thick armour, none of which seemed to be making a dent. He felt his own frustration flow through him, pushing him along as he flurried his friend in an attack of questions and pleas. All he wanted was an answer, something he could use to help him do what was right, what was needed of him. As angry as he felt he would do anything to get his Newt back.

Newt just stared at him frozen, listening to Thomas' outburst. His eyes were wide and open, fear and anxiety flooded them, almost making Thomas want to run up and hug him to death. He resisted, Newt had deflected any physical contact between them, cutting out their usual friendly openness with one another. Forcing him otherwise would only make things worse.

"Well?!" He pushed on, determined to get an answer out of the man tonight.

"You've done nothing wrong Tommy."

Thomas was relieved to hear his pet name still in use, after not hearing it in over a week; he had feared his friend had abandoned it.  But the answer was not anywhere close to being good enough.

"So why are you avoiding me huh? Were supposed to be friends Newt."

Newt looked at his shoes, his fingers twitched slightly, and his body was slightly turned to one side - obviously eager to make a run for it, even if it meant through the bookcase.

"Tommy I... You- you don't know... you can't know... I'm confused and.... and you - what you do to me - it scares me."

Thomas blinked stupidly, trying to compute what was being said to him and getting no legible response.

"You're confused? I'm fucking out of my mind here Newt! I'm trying to understand you I really am, but you're making it impossible! What do I do to you huh? Tell me! Have I not been a good enough friend? Have I been too nice to you? Too caring? Is that the problem? Tell me now! Make me understand before I lose my sanity!"

The words flew out of his mouth, the filter between his brain and gob gone, but he didn't care. He let the verbal bullets fly across the room, chipping away at the other's armour, attacking the soft core inside. Newt physically seemed to weaken, his eyes softening, his lower lip trembling, ready to give in to Thomas' onslaught.

"Tell me Newt! What am I doing to you that is so sodding unbearable?"

"You make me love you!"

The words slammed hard into Thomas, almost knocking him over. "What?"

Newt's barricades were down, the truth had been said and now it flowed out of him like a river flooding out over its marshes. 

"I...fuck Tommy... I love you okay? I thought it was just admiration, but after moving in with you... it only got stronger, and more and more unbearable. Your touches burn my skin, your eyes gaze into my soul, your voice drowns my mind. You make me freeze and melt at the same time - and I'm scared. I've never felt this way about a guy before, let alone my best friend - I- I don't want you to hate me."

Everything suddenly made sense to him, Newt's own frenzied bullets reaping through his senses. All the avoiding flinches, the excuses, the distance - growing larger and larger. At last he had gotten his answer, and it filled Thomas with a huge sense of satisfied relief. He was the reason behind all of this, but not because Newt hated him, but because he _loved_ him. True, not the most orthodox way of dealing with it, but Thomas felt warm and fuzzy inside all the same. 

"Newt..."

The blonde didn't seem to hear him, his face was flushed red and facing the ground. His hands were clenched into fists, his shoulders slightly shaking. Thomas gently closed the distance between them, reaching out to place his hands on Newt's tense shoulders. 

"Newt.."

"I'm sorry Tommy."

Using one hand he titled Newt's chin up, forcing him to look back at him. His eyes were full of self-hatred and concern, it made Thomas happy to be able to wash those horrible feelings away. 

"Don't be." He whispered, before gently locking their lips together.

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Concrete Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concrete Angel by Christina Novelli for gaysintheglade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh I've had more internet troubles! Back up and running now though.  
> I am so so sorry at the ridiculously slow rate I'm getting these out to you guys.  
> I am writing each and every request down in my lil book - and I will do every single one - have no fear on that!  
> And yet again, all your comments are so wonderfully supportive :) Thank you so much
> 
> @apeddle90

He hated The Flare, it had taken everything he held close away from him - and now it had taken hold of the person he held dearest. Ever since the Rat Man had confirmed Newt was not immune to the degenerative disease, the blonde had deteriorated rapidly, becoming less and less like the person Thomas had fallen in love with right at the start. He longed for the days back in the glade, the threat of the grievers seemed so insignificant now. The two of them would toil away in the gardens, laughing and joking, developing a friendship that could not be broken. Or so Thomas had thought. Now he wished he had never become a runner.

The note that Newt had given to him whilst escaping Wicked burned a hole in his pocket, itching to be read - but he refused, it didn't feel right. He didn't want to read words on a paper, he wanted to hear words from Newt's mouth. He had grown so cold and distant so quickly, and it pulled at Thomas' heart. From his first day as a greenie in the Glade, he felt like he knew Newt right from the start. But now it was like he didn't know him at all - and he was scared that there would soon be nothing left.

Ever since learning that he wasn't immune, Newt had kept himself quiet and isolated, silence was his way of dealing with his craziness, and it drove Thomas crazy too. He kept on building his walls, brick by brick, so tall, and Thomas had been dreading the day when he wouldn't be able to see the Newt he knew and loved at all. The blonde had become his concrete angel, and he had to break through the hard stone and make it fall before it was too late.

They stood in a dilapidated bowling alley within the Crank Palace, the proclaimed habitat for those who had The Flare, one which Newt had meekly subjected himself to. The Newt that Thomas knew could never be meek. Cranks of different levels of insanity surrounded them, none of which seemed to be paying the slightest bit of attention to them. All of them huddled in their own small groups, scrapping over god knows what, some stayed solo, staring into space with vacant eyes.

They had at last found Newt alone there, and he hadn't received them well. He now stood up, pointing a weapon directly at Thomas.

"Leave now!" He demanded, cocking the gun, ready to fire if necessary."Don't make me shoot - because I will! I'm a lost cause - let me go."

Minho and Brenda stood behind him, the girl urging him to submit to Newt's demands. Minho was growing desperately volatile, threatening to knock his best friend out before dragging him out of his forsaken new 'home'. Thomas quietened them both, asking them to wait by the entrance and look out for any trouble whilst he talked to Newt. Both of them hesitated, but Thomas kept his gaze hard and true, and they both submitted, leaving him alone with Newt.

"I'm serious Tommy - go. Now." Newt lifted the weapon, one eye closed, aiming at his chest.

"I just want to stay around you Newt. It doesn't matter if I'm near or far, I know that you don't trust yourself to trust me."

"Trust you?!" Newt yelled, rage lacing his voice. "I asked you to do one thing for me Tommy. _One_ thing! And you couldn't even do that!"

Thomas shook his head in bewilderment, "All you have to do is talk to me Newt, your silence shouts so loud and it hurts, just talk to me please."

"The letter..." Newt said now in a weak voice. "Did you read the letter?"

Thomas' hands itched for his pocket but he refused to look at it, instead he took advantage of Newt's sudden quieter mood to step a few paces closer to him. "Tell me Newt, if you want me to do something - tell me."

Newt shook his head, "I-I can't, its too late anyways. Look at me, I'm one of them."

"No you're not Newt." Thomas kept his voice as calm as he could. "You're strong, you can fight it, please come with us and we can look for a cure."

"Stop hoping for the impossible."

"I'm not! Newt I promise you, as long as m heart beats I will not let you down - we will find a cure!"

He jumped as Newt fired a warning shot at the ground in between his legs, the air there sparkled with electricity. He looked over to put a hand up to Minho who had already started to come over,  _Stay there_. Spanning the area, most of the other cranks had looked up to the source of the noise, all of their attention on them. He froze, seconds passed which seemed like minutes before they continued with their feral activities.

"You shouldn't promise the impossible Tommy. Now go - its not safe for you here."

"No New-

"I said go!" 

Thomas found himself lost for words, a large lump caught in his throat as he looked at his disheveled friend. The Flare was twisting his mind, and no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't getting through. He couldn't make Newt see clearly, the disease had taken a firm hold on his mind. The rational second in command who held everyone together was no more. The glue was gone.

"Goodbye Tommy." Newt's eyes were shining with tears, and Thomas tore his gaze away, unable to look anymore at the friend he had lost.

"Bye Newt." He whispered before heading out to leave, dragging a defiant Minho with him.

* * *

 He sat on the berg staring at the handwritten note. 

 _"Kill me. If you've ever been my friend, kill me."_  

He stared at the words through blurry eyes, miserable at his failure to complete his friends last request. Miserable at the thought of having to do such an act, he didn't even know if he could. What sort of friend did that make him? He already missed the blonde so much, he would never get over him - and he didn't want to. 

* * *

 Newt bore into him, his eyes bright and shining, desperate and for the first time in ages - clear. Thomas saw the rational clarity in Newt's eyes as the blonde lay on top of him, his friend was back, and asking him the impossible.

"Please Tommy Please..."

Newt held Thomas' hand to his temple, the gun in his hand felt cold. Staring into brown orbs, he remembered all the good times they had shared. Despite all the horrors they had gone through, they had done it together. Newt's friendship meant more to Thomas than anything else ever had, it was special, and it was what kept him strong through all of their trials. 

He touched their foreheads together, whispered a heartfelt farewell before pulling the trigger.

His concrete angel fell, limp and heavy in his arms. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't expecting to do that, but well... its done!  
> I stuck more to the friendship that made the books for me - hope you like it.


	8. Obala (Shore)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obala by Flamingosti (Shore by The Flamingos) for Prokleto Krvavi Stihovi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the last one! Bit depressing huh... blame Dashner.  
> This one should be interesting, hope it delivers for you P.K.S :) 
> 
> Again as always, thank you for your love and your requests - they will get done!
> 
> @apeddle90

Translated lyrics thanks to Prokleto Krvavi Stihovi :

_''Only you're missing, to go to the shore with me_  
 _And to help me love completely all the years that coming._

_I'm only missing you_  
 _If you turn around, you will realize_  
 _and forget all the weight on your heart is dull_  
 _and that we don't follow all the boring rules._

_Ref._  
 _Because you and me have to try to sleep under the night sky_  
 _and walk trough fire, together._  
 _And we'll sing songs on the top of our voices_  
 _while we wonder down the roads in a van with no plates_  
 _and see all the wonders of the world._

_And we're gonna eat whatever we find_  
 _and go skinny dipping on the full beach is we want._  
 _There are no limits and rules_  
 _and all we need is for our love to last!''_

* * *

 

He tried to ignore the eyes as much as he could, knowing that if he didn't he would get stuck in their blissful torrent of warming hazelnut. The plea of his boyfriend had been nagging him all through their last year at university. Now newly graduated, Thomas had been like a dog with a bone with his 'brilliant idea'.

"Come on Newt, it will be fun! This is the perfect time to do it! We won't get another chance in our lives again!"

Newt kept his gaze fixated on the computer screen in front of him. His inbox was a full list of polite rebuttals from job interviews he had taken. He was determined though, in less than an hour he was expecting an online interview for Apple, and he was cramming in as much research on the successful company as he could. He was nervous, not because he wasn't qualified for the role, but the job market was tough, and he had too many unexpected refusals from lesser companies as it was.

He wish he could be more like Thomas, so blissfully carefree; in all honesty he didn't know why they got on so well - they were complete opposites. Thomas hadn't even compiled his CV, let alone started looking for jobs, instead using the time to pester Newt. Now Thomas wanted him to just up and leave everything, go on some wild and romantic journey across America with barely two coins to rub together. The very idea terrified him, and he had been avoiding the subject ever since Thomas brought it up nearly a year ago.

In a sad way, it was easier for Thomas. He had no family, his parents shunning him when he came out as gay, and practically kicked him out of home when he left America to study at an English university. He had no ties, no responsibilities, nothing to leave behind. Newt felt bad for feeling jealous of the situation, but it was the truth. Since graduating, Thomas had moved into his family home, Newt's less judgmental parents welcoming him with loving arms. Now Thomas expected him to just up and leave, to explore his homeland with him in an adventure of such randomness and carelessness that Newt just failed to even comprehend.

"Neeeewt...." Thomas whined when he received no reply.

"I heard you Tommy." He replied shortly, his eyes skimming over the text on his screen in his rapid but practiced way.

"You sure? Because usually people respond - kinda how a conversation works."

"Questions require answers Tommy. You didn't ask a question."

He knew it was wrong to tease the man so, but Newt couldn't help it. Unfortunately, the brief look of befuddlement on Thomas' face that his teasing resulted in could melt frozen hearts, and Newt found himself just staring as Thomas thought of his reply.

"Fine." He said eventually, a slight pout showing on his lips. "Why are you so against us travelling the states together?"

Knowing Thomas was only going to persist, Newt begrudgingly gave up on his work with a sigh. He pushed away from his desk, the wheels of his chair carrying him over to where Thomas sat on their bed. 

"Because its not as simple as it is to say Tommy. How are we going to afford it?"

"We've got enough savings for the flights..."

"And accommodation? Travel? Food? Heck... just staying alive?"

"We hitchhike, we work, we befriend people... we get by."

"How can you make it sound so easy? 

"Because it is."

"No its not! You want me to just leave everything behind. My home, my family and friends, my work plans? To go to a different country with nothing but what I'm wearing...to just 'get by'? No Tommy, no way, no good could come of it."

Thomas shook his head, holding his hands up in front in a beckoning motion, his eyes wide and fierce. Newt couldn't look away. Enthralled in the vision that was Thomas, he stood up from his seat and took the other's hands. Thomas pulled him into his lap, cuddling him, burying his face in Newt's neck. 

"It worked for me Newt. I left America with nothing but a small suitcase, bound to a strange country where I had never been before. I had nothing, having to hold down three part-time jobs and juggle my assignments at the same time. Even then I had barely any money to feed myself with. That's when I met you, I was busting my gut late one night in the library, dog tired and giving up when you came into my life. I could have stayed near home, but I didn't. I took the plunge, started a new life, and now I have you. How could you possibly say that no good can come from such a venture?"

The meaningful monologue hit Newt right in the heart. Brushing his nose against Thomas', he enticed the other's face upwards, their lips automatically colliding with each other into a gentle, sweet embrace.

"Tommy... I-" He tried to speak when they parted, but he didn't have any words. The idea was still ridiculous in his mind, yes Thomas coming into his life was the best thing that could have ever happened to him, but now that they had each other, what more was there to find? 

"It doesn't have to be America. It could be Australia, Africa, Europe... the Arctic for all I care." Thomas continued, filling the silence. "As long as I'm not missing you. We've got our whole lives to settle down and start working, why not seize this opportunity, see things, go places without rules or limits. Together."

His eyes were alive, sparkling with a wanting hope that only Newt had the power to either give in to, or destroy, a position he would do anything to get away from. Would it be so bad just to let everything go? The pressure of graduating had worn him down for years, and it had only been replaced for the need of work. Perhaps Thomas was right, a journey of discovery which they could share together. It sounded something out of  fairy tale, too good to be true.

"I don't know if I could Tommy, there would be too many hardships. We've argued over this already, what if it ends up terrible and we wind up resenting each other? I don't want to risk that. I love you too much."

Thomas smiled, gently running a hand up and down his neck, the touch soothed Newt, giving him warmth and comfort.

"Newt, my love for you is so strong it could never be broken by anything material. We can do this _because_ of our love. I want to share all the experiences with you whilst were still young. Camping by a bonfire when we have no where else to go, skinny dipping underneath a full moon. See all the wonders of the world, eat whatever food that we can find. You and me could walk through the fires of hell and come out the other side, as long as were together."

"Tommy-" The poetic words voiced so lovingly and so meaningfully shocked him. His words were bordering on a cheesy romance movie, but Thomas said them with such conviction, his eyes smoldering in the heat of their intensity. He open his mouth, but Thomas's gentle finger on his lips stopped him from speaking.

"Just say yes."

At that moment Newt's laptop screen lit up, a ringing noise alerting him of an incoming call. His interviewing panel from Apple were waiting for him, and Newt suddenly found himself at a crossroads bigger than he ever thought he would have to deal with.

Did he accept Thomas' proposal? Go on a whirlwind adventure of untold promises that they would never get the chance to do again? Or play it safe, land a potential job that could launch him up the career ladder, and enjoy the home comforts that he relied so heavily upon? Looking into Thomas' eyes, he knew the man would stick by him regardless of his decision, but would their love be the same?

So much rode on his decision, and for a moment he froze solid, unsure where to step. Each path held no certain promises, but in his heart he knew he could only be completely content with one.

Kissing Thomas with as much warmth as he could, he slowly walked over to sit in-front of the computer screen where his career lay in-front of him.

"Do what you have to do Newt."

Thomas' voice was laced with sadness, and it gave Newt a huge amount of pride when he pressed the power button on his computer. He let out a deep breathe as he stared at the now black screen. Instantly a huge weight lifted off his shoulders as if heavy chains had been cut from him. He turned round to see Thomas staring at him slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Smiling he sauntered back over to retake his positing in the man's lap. The choice had been easy in the end. A slight possibility of getting a job stood no chance against a journey of discovery with the man he loved.

"So." He drawled, bumping their heads together, staring into the brown abyss. "Skinny dipping?"

The smile that graced Thomas' face would stick in his memory for the rest of his life. It washed away any fears and trepidation that he had, knowing that whatever happened, they would go through it together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that was okay, and that I got the meaning behind the song's lyrics. :S
> 
> See you guys next time! :)
> 
> @apeddle90


	9. Sex on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex on Fire by Kings Of Leon for Newtmas4ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there's really no other way to do this one, you win. Let the smut commence. (God help me, and I apologize in advance.)
> 
> Enjoy at your leisure! :)
> 
> @apeddle90

The relentless parade of teasing touches from Newt's delicate fingers were sending him out of his mind. Thomas could not recollect how he had ended up sprawled out on his back, pressed down against the bed's mattress in nothing but his superman boxers. His mind was lost in a haze of frenzied lust. His senses heightened, picking up every little touch and sound, enthralling him into a submissive state. No-one else made him feel the way his British blonde could.

The heat between their bodies was palpable. Newt sat atop him, straddling his hips, grinding down with just the right amount of pressure to tease Thomas rigid. They had barely said a word to each other since Newt had got home, their tongues tackling each other in hot debate instead. The blonde had spent his Christmas Holidays back home in England, but work duties kept Thomas home-bound. Almost six weeks of absence and it was clear Newt had missed him as much as he missed his blonde boyfriend.

Newt had only dumped his luggage in the lounge before jumping on Thomas, attacking his lips with such ferocity, it was all Thomas could do to keep up - illicit whimpers escaping from the back of his throat. Thomas had learned early in their relationship that Newt was insatiable, and it seemed that absence really did make the heart grow fonder; or at least- the appetite greater.

The weight on his groin pressed down on him hard, bringing him back into blissful reality. He looked up into beautiful brown orbs, the intensity in them made him shiver in anticipation. He tugged at the hem of Newt's t-shirt, the blonde was frustratingly still fully dressed. He pulled at the material, desperate to run his hands underneath and across the toned milky skin. In response Newt closed his hands over Thomas' wrists, gently pushing them down to the sides, a mischievous smile graced his features.

"Not yet Tommy."

Thomas pouted, not caring how childish it made him look as he laid there in superhero underpants, legs spread and arms held down.

"Not fair." He muttered. "You're still dressed."

Newt just chuckled. "Just lay where you are Tommy. Don't make a sound." He cruised his hands up Thomas' arms, a trail of goosebumps following the fingers along the skin. Thomas couldn't make a sound even if he wanted to, his voice was all but lost to him under the lovingly tender touches. He let his arms be lifted up above his head, resting against the bed frame - its coldness tingling the hairs on his knuckles. His eyes fluttered shut as Newt moved downwards on him, opening his mouth to receive the warm tongue that he was so familiar with. The kiss was deep and filled with hot passion, the heat smoldered his bruising lips, but he didn't care. Newt was hungry, and he was more than happy to oblige.

The sexual prowess of his partner never failed to surprise Thomas. Whether in the traditional setting of the bedroom, or down a back alley, Newt always initiated sex where and when Thomas would never dare. Nevertheless, he always found himself happily giving in to the blonde's advances. He would never forget the time when Newt had decided to deliver a godly blowjob whilst Thomas tried to navigate a gridlocked highway. He had only nearly crashed seven times, but like all of their ventures, it was worth it.

Despite all his experience, nothing could stop the shock that ran through him at the feel of cold metal against his crossed wrists. Before he could even begin to react, his mind slow in his placid state, he heard the recognizable click that sealed his fate for the night. He froze, the hairs on his body rose despite the hotness of the atmosphere. He felt Newt smirk against his own lips before placing a small peck at his stilled lips. Thomas slowly turned his head to look back towards where his hands were now handcuffed to the headboard, his eyes deer's in headlights.

"Newt? What are you doing?" He managed to ask in a normal voice, though his breathing was heavy. He suddenly felt anxious, and a little scared - but also excited and curious. A mixture of emotions that left his mind whirring at his present predicament.

"Getting ready to ravage you."

Newt's voice was thick with lust and wanting, a ravenous hunger seemed to take over him. His eyes were on fire, beacons against the darkness of the night. The blonde surveyed him longingly, seeming to take in every detail of his captured prey, Thomas felt, rather aptly, naked under the gaze - not just to the skin, but his heart and soul. He felt his cheeks flush under the attention, the adoration that lit up Newt's eyes. 

Having had enough of just looking, Newt began his oral assault, licking, kissing and nipping at Thomas' body. Starting at his neck, Newt worked his way down his chest, taking plenty of time over each of his nipples, making them hard in turn. The hot trail led down his stomach, tongue dipping into his navel. Fingers teasingly stroked his abdomen, a weak spot for Thomas, one that Newt knew all too well. His body convulsed under the touch, the sensitive skin sent shivers running all the way through him. 

"God Newt... Please..." He wrestled his hands against their shackles, desperate to get out and probe the blonde. "I want to touch..." 

A finger in his mouth stopped him from uttering another word.

"I thought I told you not to make a sound." Newt said authoritatively. Thomas secretly loved it when Newt got all authoritarian in the bedroom, it scared him a little bit, but it always turned him on. Thomas could only nod in response, still unable to make a sound around the flesh in his mouth. 

"Good." Newt smirked again. "Now, suck."

Thomas would later hate himself for how quickly he fulfilled Newt's command, but in his glorified state he was more than ready to do as the man ordered. He was rewarded with two more fingers. He lacquered them well, making them wet. The skin was pleasingly salty to the taste, and he happily resumed his oral task as Newt pulled his boxers down and around his ankles. 

The hot air attacked him as his full erection stood straight and hard. He heard Newt mewl, and his stomach tightened as a firm hand gripped him around the base. He stopped sucking, staring at Newt. Saliva filled his mouth, the wet fingers slippery in his bite, he gently pulled back to breathe in air before gently kissing the fingertips. Newt simply winked at him in response.

"My Tommy, aren't we ready? Standing to attention and ready for service."

He began to stroke, slow and steady, his thumb lapping over the head with each pump. Thomas closed his eyes, pleasure that he had been seeking for so long now overwhelmed all of his senses. He couldn't help but moan deep and loud, the Brit's name becoming a solid mantra of ecstasy. "

"Fuck... Newt... I'm not gonna last long - Shit..."

He managed to warn Newt that he wouldn't last long under such attention, the sensation of his climax already gripping his stomach in an iron heat. Newt promptly let go of him, his manhood left throbbing, he felt so hot, as if he was on fire. Newt pulled himself up and sat on Thomas' chest, finally taking his own top off and unbuckling his belt. Thomas licked his lips in anticipation as he stared up at the toned torso, perfectly sculpted and not overly muscular, Newt's figure left him open-mouthed.

"See something you like?"

He nodded absently at the question, his hands unconsciously battling their restraints, trying to reach out and grab the man. Newt looked at him with what he could only put down as pity. The blonde sat forward enough, and Thomas immediately kissed the abdomen that he could reach, licking at the skin just above his trouser line. He was desperate to grab hold of Newt by the waist, to touch him and tickle him senseless, but he couldn't. The buttons of the trousers were still done up, the material still in his way, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Newt ran a hand through his hair, pulling hard his head was yanked up to receive another forceful kiss. It was rough and Thomas loved it, their tongues battled ferociously. He may be restrained, but in this battlefield he could give it his all. Upon breaking the kiss Newt undid his trouser buttons, leaving just his zip. Thomas looked up at him, a confused look on his face. The blonde just smiled, pushing Thomas' face into his crotch.

"Teeth."

Thomas rolled his eyes, Newt wanted him to undress him using just his teeth. He shuffled back so his head was propped up on a pillow, granting him a better angle for access. The gold zip glinted at him and he dove in to bite at it. Newt was hard against him, and the blonde hissed at the friction. 

"God Tommy, its too tight, release me."

Thomas grinned, pausing his actions to savour his advantageous moment. "You know, if you untied me this would be a lot easier, and go a lot quicker." 

Newt responded with a tug to his still hard erection. Thomas yelped at the sudden touch, bringing him right back to breaking point. He silently carried on with undressing Newt, feeling the man's satisfied smirk bearing down from above him. The zip came down easily, and using his teeth he tugged at the material. Newt, achingly tight in his pants helped him discard of the denim, leaving just his tented boxers to be removed.

"See you're just as ready." Thomas teased, licking the moist patch where Newt's wet head sat beneath the fabric, earning him a velvet-like groan. 

"Fuck Tommy, I'm hard for you - so do something about it."

Thomas hummed as he tugged at Newt's pants, bringing the fabric down against muscled thighs. New'ts raging member flicked out from the material, brushing up against Thomas' cheek. The skin was radiating heat, Newt's smell engulfed his mind, and he quickly pulled back to lap at the already damp tip.

"God Tommy what are you a cat licking milk? Get on with it." Newt's pleading voice hitched in his throat, his eyes fluttered shut and Thomas knew it was too much for him to take. Giving up on the teasing, he took Newt's whole length in his mouth, letting it fill him until there was no space left. Hands gripped the back of his head, and Thomas had to fight his gag reflex as he heard loud moans above him. 

Using his throat muscles he sensuously massaged the erect body, until the need for breath overcame him and he pulled back, wet saliva dripping down between them. 

"Christ Tommy, where'd you learn to do that?"

Thomas let out a breathy laugh, "What can I say, I'm a natural blowjob giver."

"Now there's something for your CV."

They both burst out in laughter, clearing the sexual tension that had frenzied them before. Loving Newt was like having your lover and best friend rolled into one. It had only taken them an hour at a party to become friends, a weekend movie marathon to become best friends, and a lad's holiday to become lovers. They had never looked back since, especially when it came to the bedroom.

Thomas resumed his pleasuring of Newt, taking a more steady approach, running the length at a good pace. He heard Newt's breathing quicken, felt his body tighten, and he pulled back - the air almost steaming around the throbbing edifice. Newt groaned, "Fuck no Tommy... finish me, please."

Thomas smirked at the polite  ending to the request, Newt in his fluster losing all of his earlier authority. "I'm nearly there too, finish us off together Newt. I can't my hands are kind of tied."

Newt didn't wait, turning round he laid flat back against Thomas' chest, his head to one side so they could both see what he was doing. He positioned himself deftly so both their erections stood tall against each other, before grasping them both in one hand. They both groaned simultaneously as Newt began to pump, their towers were blazing infernos, friction burning against each other. Thomas seriously thought they were going to spark and set on fire. Making love with Newt was always as if it would be their last time together - so full of intense passion and need.

The pumps got faster and jerkier, and soon both men growled deep within their throats as they both reached their explosive climax. Thomas' mind shone stars as he went over the edge, pleasure and fascination washed over him in waves of flames. Newt's body was baking onto his, but he didn't care - it was a warming heat, a caring one, safe and protective. 

"I love you" Thomas whispered, rubbing his face against Newt's, their bodies now one big messy entanglement of limbs. The rooms stank sweetly of sex, and the temperature of the room had cooled to a more comfortable level The blonde shuffled closer, placing a tender kiss on his lips. "Love you always Tommy." 

It wasn't until late the next morning, when Newt had already left to restock the cupboards, that Thomas realised he was still chained to the bed board, completely naked. He also realised that he had no key to free himself. Not only that, but his parents were meant to be coming over for lunch- and that they had their own key to his apartment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that was okay!


	10. Dark Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey for m.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Lana, great song - a severe contrast from the last chapter. This is why I love these prompts, they are all so different, and evoke different emotions. 
> 
> @apeddle90

The rain fell down on him hard from the thunderous skies above. The wind whipped at his skin, tearing his clothes around his body violently. It was early, and the sun was yet to show its face to their world, tempestuous weather filling the atmosphere instead. This was their paradise. They had finally escaped Wicked and Janson, they had escaped the Flare. Yet their losses had been far too great, and one in particular lay heavy on Thomas' heart.

The makeshift graveyard held tomb markers commemorating each life lost in their struggle for freedom. Some were unnamed, unknowns who had fallen by the wayside, but one stood out for Thomas greater than any. It was simple boulder that he had found, time wearing it into a smooth oval like shape, its surface flat and unyielding except for the name that he had carved deep into its skin.

Newt had been the glue that held their group together until the end. When all hope seemed lost, he pulled them through with quiet orders of encouragement and determination. But for Thomas the blonde had been so much more. Despite his missing memory, he knew he had never loved, nor cared for anyone else more than Newt. They had fought together side by side, laughed together, sang together, and loved together.

In the end Newt's fate had been sealed by a cruel God. One of the very few of the test subjects who were not immune to the Flare, Newt eventually fell at Thomas' own hand - begging him for his death, for salvation. It had been an act of kindness, but one he had loathed to take. He was blind to the greater good, he had saved Newt from a vicious insanity, letting him die as himself, as the man Thomas loved. His actions that night still haunted him, the pleading voice, the stinging tears, the bang as he pulled the trigger.

It had been six months since they passed into their new home, they had started again, resourcefully creating a small shantytown for the survivors. There had been plenty of grief and mourning at the start, the mass of their cemetery was a symbol of that. But they had slowly moved on, all working together to help rebuild society under Minho's and Harriet's leadership. Many elected Thomas to lead them all in their mission, but he rebuked. Unable to move on himself, how could he possibly hope to be the guide to their salvation?

Looking back Newt was always the one to pull him through, motivating him over each seemingly unendurable obstacle. Pushing him to lead their group through each deathly trial. Now he was gone Thomas felt frozen, unable to continue. There was no remedy for memory, Newt's face filled his head like a beautiful melody. It was as if the blonde's soul was inside him, trying to tell him that everything was okay now, but Thomas could not accept it. He could never move on from Newt, and without him there he wished that he too was dead. But he could not take his own life, and he hated his cowardice for it. He did not fear death itself, only that Newt might not be there waiting for him on the other side, that he would be in the dark abyss all alone. Here at least he had memories, painful as they were, they were also loving and kind.

Every time he closed his eyes to sleep, it was like his own dark paradise. His dreams were haunted by Newt's presence, touching him, loving him, telling him that everything was fine. There was no escape, both his thoughts by day and dreams by night were plagued by the dead lover he could no longer touch. Everyone encouraged him to move on, but there was no way that he could. His strength to live came from Newt, to live life where the blonde no longer could. To ensure his death had not been futile in their survival. He owed him that much. No-one could ever compare to Newt, so he would live his dark paradise, dream his dark paradise, and carry on. 

"Loving you forever can't be wrong."

His voice was loud and clear against the down pouring rain as he spoke to the stone, he was soaked to the skin but he ignored it. This was their time, in between the craziness of his dreams, and the loudness of his reality. A peaceful lapse between his paradises where he could remember the man he would love forever.

"Even though you're not here, I won't move on."

That was how he would play it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, but I think a good one. What a roller coaster this little lot is turning out to be eh? 
> 
> @apeddle90


	11. When You Were Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When You Were Mine by Taylor Henderson for TheMikeSpecter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so slow with the updates :S  
> Another sad one.... sorry! The music dictates, it must be so!

Rain fell hard and heavy on the window pane, its music engulfing Thomas' mind as he leant on his windowsill, his head resting on folded arms. The grey skies and miserable weather mirrored him perfectly, his heart weighed down with second-hand love. He was a week into his Christmas holidays, and everyone around him was getting full on into the festive spirit. It ticked him off. The sing-song carols tunelessly sang from his sister, the decorations his dad seemed to be putting up all over the house. Even the smell of freshly baked cinnamon cookies wafting from the kitchen failed to put him in a good mood, turning his stomach instead. He knew they were being extra festive to try and cheer him up, but he wished they would just stop. Surely his self-confinement inside his own room should tell them that he wasn't interested.

He stared out of the window as a car pulled up outside the house. It had been a week ago, their last day of term, when Thomas' heart had been broken. Broken by the son of the happy couple who lived next door. Thomas had dated Newt for two years, the beautiful blonde who had moved over from England with his parents. Thomas had befriended him when the British family moved in six years ago, they had been eleven then - innocent friends who played in each other's houses, borrowed toys and videos, and enjoyed sleepless sleepovers.

As they grew up together they had grown even closer, high-fives became holding hands, slap on the backs became cuddles, and play wrestling quickly became make-out sessions. It had been so perfect, until last Friday. Newt had been acting weird, but Thomas hadn't thought too much of it, blissfully unaware in his loved-up state. To him their relationship had been perfect, they spent time together, dated, loved, but didn't smother one another. However it soon turned out that Newt had other ideas.

"I'm sorry Tommy, were just not working. I want this... what we have, to stop."

The words had hit him like a tun of bricks. He had asked, pleaded, begged in the middle of the playground in front of the whole school. People had gasped, pointed, even snickered, but he hadn't cared. He had just wanted to save what he thought had been a wonderful union. He still remembered Newt's sad face as he walked away, leaving Thomas on his knees with tears rolling down his cheeks.

"What did I do wrong Newt?"

Newt had shrugged away without a response. A week later, and Thomas still didn't have his answer. From that departure, Newt was taken off on a family vacation back in England, leaving Thomas to spend his Christmas break sullen and sulking over his lost love. His mind was racing with too many questions. What did he do wrong? Was he not good enough? Did he not do enough? Was he a bad lover? With too much time on his hands, his mind soon started to deliberate over darker questions. Was there someone else? Has their whole relationship been one big lie? He had tried calling Newt, but after leaving twenty voice messages and over thirty unanswered texts, he gave up.

He watched as Newt got out of the family car. His breath caught in his throat as the handsome boy stood out into the crisp winter air. His cheeks were flushed red from the coldness. Blonde hair poked out from under a crimson beanie, hot breath escaping into the air from under a matching scarf as he breathed out, forming soft tendrils of white. Thomas almost cooed, wanting only to run down and embrace him in a welcome home hug. But that was not an option anymore.

He watched as the family entered their home. Newt was last, he stood still for a moment as if unsure of something. After a few seconds he looked over at Thomas' window. Thomas froze, only able to stare back, brown looking into brown. The distance was close enough fro Thomas to see the sadness and uneasiness on Newt's face, and he hoped the blonde could see the want and longing in his. They stayed like that for a few moments that felt like an eternity, before Newt turned away to enter his home.

Sighing he moved away from the window, only to find himself pacing the room restlessly. His mind replayed their entire relationship, trying to find what went wrong, what he hadn't done. He would do anything to earn Newt's heart again, spend his last dollar, give everything he had, but deep down he couldn't be sure if it would be enough. A whole week had gone by, plenty of time for Newt to forget him, to move on. Perhaps he already had. It was too late.

He sat on his bed, a notepad and pen next to him. The window that his bed stood underneath was directly opposite Newt's bedroom. The two of them had had many conversations between the panes of glass, notepads and pens in hand. Whenever their parents had separated them because one was being a 'bad influence' on the other, or when they couldn't sleep and wanted to stay up longer, they would exchange messages the old fashioned way. It held a certain nostalgia for Thomas, and he suddenly longed to be able to do it again. 

He waited, and waited. His mum brought him up some of her cookies, setting them down on his bed, trying to coax him downstairs, to join the rest of the family.

"You need to eat love, we're all worried about you."

"I'm fine Mum." He lied.

She nodded sadly before leaving him alone again. Thomas found himself unconsciously nibbling on a biscuit, the warm spices tingled his tongue before he washed it down with hot tea. A drink Newt had gotten him hooked on. The thought brought a smile to his face, a smile followed by sadness, and the tea suddenly tasted off in his mouth. 

Newt's curtains were left open from when he had left for England. A flash of colour and movement caught Thomas' attention and he looked over to see Newt sat at his own window. They continued their sad gaze from the front door. Thomas noticed Newt looked thinner than before, perhaps like him, not eating as he should be. He put his hand to the glass, wanting to shout out, to let his voice be heard, but he couldn't. Newt just stared back at him, his eyes shone with held back tears, his face a fragile facade.

Thomas brought his hand down, dropping his half-eaten biscuit, rushing to scribble a note to engage Newt into a conversation. He wrote down how much he had missed him, how much it hurt. How he didn't understand, and how he wanted them to work things out - whatever it took. He chose his words carefully, trying to put all his feelings into as few words as possible, hoping to get his message across clearly. If they could just start communicating again, it could lead to a text, or a phone call, or maybe more. 

'Newt, I love you, please talk to me, we can work things out. Love Tommy x'

He placed the note flush across the glass, his big letters clear and easy to read even against the darkening skies. He looked away from where he held the note and back to Newt. His blood ran cold and his heart fell like stone. Where Newt had been only moments ago now only showed closed curtains. Thomas instantaneously burst into tears. He had been too late.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self : Stop picking on Thomas :/


	12. Torn Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torn Apart by Bastille for NewtmasObsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the sad times :/ The songs you guys are requesting aren't the chirpiest XD  
> I'm carrying on the last chapter into this one - the songs seem to go together. I hope that's okay.  
> So yeah, more sad times... 
> 
> And I know Christmas is a random setting seeing as were in February, but it just kinda happened that way.
> 
> @apeddle90

Thomas awoke on Christmas Eve morning with the same heavy heart he had carried around with him for nearly two weeks. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't shake himself out of the depression that his love's absence had inflicted upon him. He had been torn apart from the man he was meant to be with, and it hurt like hell. Newt had made a huge imprint on his life, and now he was gone there was nothing but an empty void inside his heart.  

Up until the day they broke up for the holidays Thomas had been excited about Christmas. He had discussed with Newt what they were going to do, where they would go, hinting at what they had bought each other. Looking back, he sadly realised they had not really discussed any of those things. Thomas had talked, and Newt had listened, not actually partaking in the plan making himself.

When he reflected on the last couple of months, Thomas realised just how blind he had been. Usually their calendars were full with planned dates and activities, but since that year's Halloween party they had not done much together. Had he not done enough? Or was that Newt winding down the relationship, slowly distancing himself before cutting the line. If it was to spare Thomas the shock of the split than it had failed. He was thunderstruck and clueless, too confused to feel anger - only pain.

He wished Newt had been angry with him, that he showed hatred towards him, at least then he would have some kind of emotion flung his way. The fact that Newt didn't seem to care enough to even show him the slightest bit of sentiment of any kind hurt the most - the nonchalance of it all, as if what they had meant nothing to him. 

Thomas gave up on waiting by his window. The rare times when Newt's bedroom curtains weren't pulled closed, the blonde was either not there, or was and had decided to stay out of view. Thomas left a note on his window just in case the other glanced his way when he was no longer waiting.

'I will always love you. Please talk to me.'

If Newt had read the desperate plea, he showed no sign of it. He had hardly come out of the house at all during the week, only if it was to jump straight into the family car to drive off somewhere. Thomas had no chance of catching him. He tried spending the whole day out in the cold and the wet. As a result he had got a raging cold, and not even a glimpse of Newt for his troubles. 

Dragging himself out of bed, he kept his duvet wrapped around him as he trudged through into the living room. It was already nearing midday. Thomas had lost all sense of time - each morbid day leading into sleepless nights, only to start the days again. The day's weather was clear and crisp. It had snowed during the night, the land sparkling with the white crystallized blanket, the sun reflecting brightly on its surface from its light blue sky.

He slumped himself down onto the sofa, flicking on the television, he settled on the news - not paying any real attention. He heard footsteps walking through the kitchen and mentally prepared himself for the now daily verbal onslaught from his mother.

"Ah good. Your'e up."

"Morning Ma."

"Afternoon Thomas."

His family had had enough of feeling sorry for him. He couldn't blame them, it was Christmas and his mood was dampening everyone's spirits. He wished they would just forget about him, leave him to his dwellings until the New Year, enjoy their time and let him wallow in his. It seemed perfect for everybody in his eyes, but his parents wouldn't have it. He must be the only teenager in the world to be banned _from_ his room. Nags from his mother such as - 'you need fresh air', 'go hang with your friends', to 'you're upsetting your little sister' and 'cheer up, its Christmas.'

His friends had tried to call him but he couldn't bring himself to talk to them. His phone was full of supportive texts from all of them. Ben and Teresa tried to convince him that he was too good for Newt and deserved better. Others such as Gally telling him to grow a pair and move on. Each, in there own way, offering their support. His heart lifted as he read the texts, but even thinking about it hurt too much, let alone talking, so he kept silent.

Minho had knocked on the door several times, his mother letting him go as far as Thomas' bedroom door. It took a chair lodged under the door handle, and a lot of yelling to get his friend to leave. He felt awful, Minho was just trying to help him, they all were, but he just couldn't face them. Accepting help and support proved that something was wrong, and that he wasn't capable of fixing it himself. It was true - but he couldn't admit it.

"You need to get dressed Thomas." His mum said in a persisting tone that left no room for argument. Thomas tried his luck regardless.

"Why?"

"Because mister- you are going over to Newt's front door." She grabbed the remote from him and turned the television off. Kneeling down so she could look at him at face-level, her eyes pierced into him. "You are going to knock on the door, and demand that he speaks to you."

"No way."

"That wasn't a request Thomas. That was an order." 

"Why?" He repeated stubbornly. His father would never admit it, but Thomas took after him when it came down to stubbornness. It was something his mother was used to by now, and there was nothing he could do to break her. She had let him wallow and weep, let him soak in shame and self-pity. Enough was evidently enough.

"Because I'm sick of your depressed face hanging around the house. Its Christmas Eve Thomas - in case you had forgotten." He had forgotten, and he couldn't say that he cared.

"Do you love him?" His mother asked boldly, making Thomas blink twice before answering.

"Yes!"

"Do you miss him?" 

"Of course I fucking miss him!"

His mother's hard hand stung his face as she slapped him round the cheek. His hand flew up immediately to cover the reddening skin. He couldn't remember the last time his mother had slapped him, he must have been knee-high. An outburst welled in his throat, but it froze as he saw her face. She was crying. Her eyes shone with the sadness of a parent whose child's heart was broken. 

"Do not swear under my roof Thomas. And do not disobey my instructions."

Her voice shook slightly, but its resolve was true. Thomas was overcome by her tears and embraced her as he joined her with his own tears. They stayed like that for what seemed forever, sharing each other's warmth, and for the first time that week - Thomas remembered that he would always be loved. 

Eventually his mother pulled back, wiping her tears with the cuff of her sleeve. "Now go. Go before you lose the bottle, and don't stop until you are at his door."

Thomas nodded. His heart was beating fast, nerves already taking over him. He dressed quickly, simple jeans and navy blue jumper - nothing over the top, nothing desperate. Before he lost his nerve he laced up his trainers, grabbed a jacket, and left his home. He was glad for the short distance between the houses, it left no time for doubt to seep into his mind. Freshly fallen snow crunched softly beneath his feet as he made the journey, and before he knew it he was standing in front of Newt's front door - its light pink paint and golden knocker seemingly inviting him in. A festive wreath hung in the centre, dark pine green embezzled with gold ribbon, red berries, and fake snow.  

He rapped the brass knocker sharply with three solid strokes. He wiped his hands against the side of his jeans, his nerves taking a grip over him. A full minute passed and the cold air was biting at his skin, the wind stung his eyes. He had just about given up hope, suspecting Newt had guessed it would be him and was refusing to answer the door. He had been about to turn round to leave when the door opened, bells on the wreath tinkling as it was pulled inwards.

There Newt stood in a pale blue jumper and dark skinny jeans that shaped his body all too well. Thomas swallowed a gulp before looking up to the boy's surprised face. Silence fell down on them, neither particularly expecting the situation, nor knowing what to do next. 

"Hey." Thomas said awkwardly, cursing himself inside. Newt replied with his own short welcome. He was thinner than what Thomas remembered, and looked tired - the beginning of dark circles sat beneath his eyes, and his usual flawless blonde locks sat untamed on his head. He still looked completely adorable, but not like the Newt he knew. 

"What do you want Thomas?"

The question cut through the air and into Thomas' mind. "Were out of sugar and I was wondering if you could spare a cup?" He said sarcastically. Newt just stared at him blankly, apparently either not getting the joke, or not finding it funny.

"Look." Thomas continued before the silence got too great again. "Can I come in please? Can we talk? I'm lost without you, and I don't even know why I don't have you anymore. Why are you shutting me out?"

Newt only looked away, "Not now Thomas." The sentence was short and sharp, and for the first time since their break up, anger flooded into Thomas.

"Yes now Newt. I don't care whatever it was that I've done - but I do not deserve this." He gestured between them. "I love you Newt, and I can't stand being torn apart from you a second longer. So - can I come in?"

Newt bit his lower lip nervously before he eventually side stepped behind the door. "Parents are in the back room. Head up into my bedroom... we'll talk."

"Something wrong with your parents knowing I'm here?"

"We'll talk." Newt repeated, not saying another word. He quirked an eyebrow questionably, asking whether he should shut the door in his face or not. Thomas didn't let him think too hard on it, and bounded in through the door, and up the stairs into the bedroom he knew all too well. 

Two hours later Thomas returned home. His mother was waiting for him in the hallway, he could hear his father playing with his little sister upstairs. He had remained strong whilst Newt talked to him, and he had made it back home, but the sight of his mother's worrying eyes broke him. He rushed forward into her, sobbing all his pain and anguish that sat in his heart. 

"What happened sweetie?" She asked him, brushing her hand through his hair, wiping away the snow that had now started falling again outside. Thomas kept his gaze downwards as he gained control over himself again. 

"He's leaving."

"What do you mean he's leaving?"

"Their going back home to England. His father has got a job as a professor at Cambridge University, and they want Newt to study there."

"Honey, does he want to go?"

"Yes."

"When do they go?"

"Tonight."

"But its Christmas! Go over there and invite him round now - you have to spend these last moments together."

"His parents don't want him seeing me. They say I give him a reason to stay, that's why he's cut me out."

Anger flashed through his mother's eyes. "How dare they! Who are they to say that my son is not good enough for theirs! I'm going over there."

"No mum please don't!" Thomas panicked. "

"That boy has broken your heart Thomas - does he still love you?"

"He said that he did. Mum, I'm not gonna stand in his way. He knows that if he really wanted to he could defy his parents. I already asked him to move in here, but he declined. This is what he wants, and whether he loves me or not, its not me."

"Oh my Thomas..." His mum brought him into a mother's cuddle, warm and loving. He tightened his grip around her, tears still weeping from his eyes. He wouldn't stand in Newt's way, he even felt better now knowing the full story. But he deeply regretted wasting the last two weeks on his own, when he should have been with Newt, sharing their last days together. It was too late now, Newt was being torn from his life, and there was nothing more that he could do - and it hurt like hell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I am sorry >.> *Searches through requests for a happy song* Next one could be a good one >:D
> 
> @apeddle90


	13. Centuries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Centuries by Fall Out Boy for Dani

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I haven't update this for like 2 weeks now. I hope the people who have requested these actually do get to read them. If you have requested one, its on my list, and it WILL get done. 
> 
> @apeddle90 :)

The day's battle had been testy, and wearing on his body. From dawn they had fought, not ceasing until they had been able to purge the enemy's advance guard from their barricaded settlements. The opposing army had proved itself an intelligent foe in the art of war, killing far too many more of his own men than he would have liked. The armies of Wicked and The Glade had contested over the league of land known as 'Paradise', an opportunity to build and start anew away from poverty and disease.

Paradise, once claimed, offered land of unrivaled fertility, and the perfect strategic outlaying of land against invasion. No army could ambush the clear flat fields without being spotted a fortnight in advance, and shear, tall edifices of stone outcrops meant none would get close before being embedded with a league of arrows. Clear bacteria-free rivers flowed in abundance, and wild animals of all sorts of game supplied plenty of succor for the stomach.

Thomas looked out from outside his tent. Set upon a high mound he was able to watch over what was left of his troops as the night's darkness settled in. The air was cold, a welcome respite form the day's toll, the wind kissed his skin, biting at his injuries. His left wrist had taken a blow from a heavy mace, his gauntlet just about saving it from breakage, but not the flesh from yielding. A rough bandage made from a strip of cloth covered the open wound. His face had remained unmarked, though a spear's head had grazed his shoulder, and his right foot had been heavily stomped on by a frightened horse.

He was used to pain. As commander of the Glade's vanguard he had plenty of experience. Their job was to break the front of Wicked's forces, lead the rest of the army's troops to victory. A dangerous task for any man, but Thomas was known for his war-craft, a talent with a broadsword, and lethal without. The night had nearly reached its climax, and a new day would soon begin, but it was not time for sleep. Below him his men still sang in celebration of victory, as well as in mourning for their lost comrades. Today's losses had been heavy, they needed to rest and regroup. A bolster army would be joining them anon, before they would continue their hard assault. Carelessness was never an option for Thomas - winning battles did not mean winning the war, and a hurt beast was always the most dangerous.

"A heavy battle today Commander." Minho, his lieutenant, said somberly. "A victory to be sure. Your name will go down in history, the leader of the vanguard who broke the Wicked's front."

"A victory of a kind, but not for the fallen, and there were many who fell." Thomas replied.

"A heavy sacrifice for the future of their people. It saddens me that we cannot linger to bury them, the crows will feast tonight."

Minho was a hard man, built for war in both mind and body. His words cruel to most, were simply practical to Thomas; as much as they saddened him. The remnants of their troops were made up of few warriors, most of their number now comprised of servants, squires, cooks, craftsmen and sellswords whose blades had to be paid for. 

"I feel weary from the struggle." He admitted. "I mean to retire for the night, send for my squire. I shall convene a strategy meeting at dawn, pray let what lords are left alive know. Make sure all able men are fit and ready by midday, our reinforcements shan't be long to arrive." Minho bowed his head dutifully  before departing down the gentle mound, moonlight glinting off his silver armour as he sauntered away.

Thomas sighed heavily. He had left his tent that morning not knowing whether he would return to it, as he did for most of them. Today he had been fortunate enough to do so, the next - he may not. Just one mistake, would be all it would take. He would go down in history, and that would be the day he did not return. He told himself it would be easier, if he had no one to love, to miss, to cherish. It was hard not knowing which moment would be their last.

He let down the curtains to his large chamber, a sigil of an unsolvable maze emblazoned on each panel. His tent was large, the centre being taken up by a large wooden table covered in maps and other documents. At the back sat his bed, large and comfortable silk sheets and plumped pillows awaiting his hopeful return. Adjacent sat a skinny long table, adorned with food and flagons of wine for him and his compatriots. Platters of figs, grapes and olives accompanied shredded honey glazed ham, barbecued trout and roasted potatoes. He had not touched a morsel since returning, and his stomach yearned at the pleasant aromas. 

He poured himself a flagon of wine and took a long swig, the sweet liquid warmed his tongue with smooth flavours of figs, redcurrants and cinnamon. He shed his chest armour, leg guards and gauntlets, tired of their heavy weight. Underneath he wore a light mail, and hardened leather trousers. He discarded his boots, taking care of his wounded ankle, so as to not antagonize it. Not able to wait any longer, he made a quick feast of meat and potatoes before helping himself to fruit. The flavours outdid the smells, and he readily ate his due fill of good food, by gods he had earned it.

The sound of the curtain opening was followed by Minho entering, followed by another man. His squire. The tall blonde was of his age, and as handsome as he was slender and toned, his brandy eyes fixed onto the ground. Thomas had three squires, to help him into his armour, look after and keep his horse, keep his gear clean, and make sure he had whatever it was he was needed. Newt had been his squire for nearly three years, and since day one Thomas insisted on the blonde to be his night-time aide. 

"Commander, I trust you to get good rest, there will be much to discuss on the morrow." Minho told him, before summarizing the consequences of the day's toll; how many were missing, dead, what had been plundered, and so it went on. Newt stood there, somber and meek as anything. The proper little squire Thomas thought bemusedly to himself - if only everyone else knew the truth behind those innocent down-set eyes. 

"Newt, plate up some food and a glass of wine for the Lieutenant to take back to his own chamber. Minho, dear friend, please forgive me but I am in need of rest. We will discuss everything in good time." He could sense the impatience of the squire in his actions, as well as his own bubbling up inside. It would not be long before he would leave for battle again, and every second wasted was one he could not get back.

"My thanks Commander." Minho graciously accepted the hurriedly put together ensemble of food and wine. "I will see you when the sun is up." With that he left the tent, curtains flapping shut behind him as he went. Thomas followed him out, glancing through a gap between the materials to ensure his war buddy left the vicinity. 

"More wine my Lord?" An accented voice requested politely behind him. He turned round to see Newt holding his used glass and the flagon of sweet alcohol. He smirked at his squire, dressed in a silvering grey silk tunic and matching trousers, he looked a fine picture to Thomas. Since starting his war campaign against the Wicked empire Thomas had gone through twelve squires. Seven had been killed, two had fled as cravens, and the other three made up the useless part of his serving team.

Newt was different. He was Thomas' only veteran server and had shown bravery, honour and loyalty in his years of service. He was also, in Thomas' eyes, a beauty to behold, a gift from the gods as he saw it. His hair was golden, deep brown eyes shone brightly, pale skin flawless and an exotic accent that tingled his senses. Their close relationship as Commander and squire started as most do in these times, with too much to drink. Thomas had drunkenly come on to the boy one night, and Newt had been only too happy to oblige. He still remembered that night, the heat and intensity that burned between them, an ecstasy that he had only ever imagined in his teenage dreams. 

"I take the silence as a yes my lord" Newt said, filling his glass. Thomas shook his head. "Quit the formalities Newt, its just us now- and pour yourself a cup as well."

Newt did just that, before walking over to him, gently nudging a glass into his hands. The blonde traced gently around the gauge in his shoulder, the other stroked the elbow above his damaged wrist. "I heard so many dying today." Newt whispered, his eyes glistening. "I prayed you would come back to me safe. Yet still I can't quite believe you're really here." Thomas hissed as Newt placed a salty kiss on his shoulder, before tracing up his neck. He leaned his head back to catch soft lips, their tongues quickly locking together vigorously. He clumsily placed his untouched drink on the table as he guided Newt backwards towards the bed.

With a firm push Newt fell down onto the sheets, his cheeks already flushed. Thomas followed down immediately, their bodies warm against each other. "My lord... your clothes." Thomas almost laughed at the meekness of the statement. "Say my name Newt." 

"Please Tommy...I need you now." Thomas groaned into Newt's mouth before straightening up. He lifted his arms across himself, pulling the rest of his upper garments off of him, his muscles bulging against the fabrics. When he lowered his arms again to discard the clothes he saw Newt looking up at him with wide staring eyes. 

"See something you like?" He smirked. The reply came in exploratory hands touching him all over, caressing his sides, massaging his back, teasing his nipples. The touches soon became too much, and he pushed the man away, taking the advantage to pull down Newt's trousers. He smiled when he saw his squire had come to him commando, readily prepared for his duties. The blonde quickly pulled off his own top, laying himself bare before his Commander. 

He stood back, taking in the form sprawled out in front of him. The edifice between his legs showed Newt's eagerness, his toned muscles tensed in readiness, his eyes heavy with lust. "See something you like?" The blonde mimicked. "I hope you've set up your quarters enough distance away, I fancy screaming tonight." Thomas shuddered. Yes he thought, he would make his lover scream, scream his name; and right then he couldn't give a fuck who heard. His need for Newt overpowered everything else ten-fold.

Their love was fast and intense, with a passion that neither had found anywhere else. Newt let him in willingly, hungrily. Thomas set a hard rhythm, punishing, but the blonde took it all, urging him on with firm hands clasped around his buttocks. Fingertip bruises already patterned Newt's hips, where Thomas now placed his hands, both too lost in their love making to care. Their mouths did battle as they worked, a battle more extreme than the one that took place on the fields. The air was set heavy, the tent filled with a burning heat, Thomas lost himself in the euphoria, murmuring sweet nothings into his lover's ear. And as they reached their sweet moments, Newt did scream, loud and with a strength that engulfed Thomas' entire body as he lost control.

Changing position after their climax, Newt mounted him as he sat hard against the bed-rest, the blonde sitting contently on top of him. There they embraced each other, their rhythm slow and gentle. The intensity of their orgasms had passed, now they both relaxed, enjoying as their bodies moved as one. His ankle was sore, his shoulder ached, and his wrist screamed at him, but it all seemed distant compare to the pleasure that ran through him. 

"Tommy..." He grunted in acknowledgement, Newt's warmth surrounded his sex comfortably. "Yeah Newt?"

Newt's hands tightened their hold on him as he rested his golden hair on his good shoulder. "Don't go tomorrow."

The words pulled at his heart. He never liked leaving Newt to go to battle. The uncertainty of never seeing his face again, those beautiful eyes again, was far too hard. But he couldn't stop, not until the enemy fled from the calling of his name. He would go down in history as The Glade's greatest beacon of hope.  

"I have to Newt- and don't make me promise." He put a gentle hand to Newt's mouth, stopping the words form the request he knew was coming. "I''m not going to make a promise to you I can't keep.

The blonde bumped their heads together, his face quiet and somber. "I understand Tommy, I do. I just- I dread the day when you leave me for the last time."

"Hey." Thomas said gently, embracing the man close in his arms, whispering into his ear. "I've got a promise we can both keep."

"Yeah?" Newt replied quietly, but eagerly.

"Remember me." 

Newt pulled back to look at him, searching his eyes for something he wasn't quite sure of. "Tommy I don't understand."

"If I don't come back, promise that you will remember me. And I promise, that wherever I lay, I will remember you."

An understanding came over the blonde's features. "I promise, I'll remember you Tommy once you're gone. For centuries. I could never forget you."

Thomas kissed the blonde deeply, the other tightened around him in response. "For centuries"

Newt didn't keep his promise. He didn't need to. As the Gladers started afresh in their won territory, Thomas was there to be by his side. The squire became a Lord's Lord, and the two of them together spent the rest of their days in comfortable harmony of life's sweet embrace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing shorties are hard! I keep wanting to burst into story-telling XD
> 
> @apeddle90


	14. I Won't Give Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I Won''t Give Up by Jason Mraz for Colin Winchester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, trying to quicken the updates on this a little bit.
> 
> Thanks for all the supportive comments, they really do keep me going. It so nice to receive all the e-mails during the day will all the compliments so thank you all. :)
> 
> @apeddle90

They held so much inside of them, an impossible medley of emotions, and yet there they all were. Pain, anguish, fear, acceptance, love and determination; their beauty captivating him entirely. Thomas looked into those eyes, both equally as dark and cold as night as they were warm and bright as day's dawn all at once. The owner of the tyrannical brown orbs stood mere feet in front of him, tired and haggard, dirt and scars littered his face and body.

His clothes were dirty and tattered, jeans ripped at the knees, his tank top clinging to him in tatters. Parts of his too skinny frame exposed to the harsh air that surrounded them through the torn garments looked reddened and raw. Once perfect yellow hair, now ripped and torn, only held onto his scalp in patches. Thomas' heart fell apart at the sight, the man in front of him now was very different to the one he fell in love with in the Glade at the very beginning.

Out of all of them Newt had come the furthest. He had helped lead them out of the glade, through the scorching desert and into Wicked territory; only to find out his doomed fate was inescapable. He was not immune to The Flare, nor would he ever have a hope of there being a cure. At least, not in time, and not without Thomas' help, perhaps even his own sacrifice. Newt reminded Thomas of an old star, burning so bright and so fiercely, even more so in its final moments, before fading out forever. He felt tears moisten his eyelashes as the thought of that permanency, of the rest of his life without his beautiful blonde. To see him go this way, crazed, different, a change man was not an option he could allow to even contemplate.

No, he decided. It would not happen that way. He was not giving up on Newt, not whilst breathe still cycled through his lungs. They had gone too far, lost too much, and had been through so much together. They had laughed, shouted, argued, yelled, cared, hugged, kissed, loved, and he wouldn't take a second of it back. No matter how rough their skies got, Thomas would keep looking up, to their brighter future. He would give Newt all his love and more.

"Please Tommy.. Please."

Newt begged him with such conviction as he held Thomas' hand against his head. The gun felt cold in his hand, dark metal urging him to end the poor man's struggle. The desperate plea from his lover burned him, melting his heart inside of him. He understood, he really did. Newt wanted to die as he was, as he wanted Thomas to remember him, but Thomas wasn't ready to let go.

He had already let go in a way, when he turned away from Newt in the decrepit bowling alley, thinking that would be the last time he would see him. He knew he had been stupid, and that Minho had been right, but he couldn't deny Newt his own space that he so desperately wanted. That he had been able to oblige to, to let the blonde do some navigating, to try and figure himself out on his own. Thomas would have waited patiently for an eternity if it meant they could live together, but in the end it all came down to this moment.

He was glad in way, for the chance to see Newt again. His eyes looked past the disfigurements and the scars, the tattiness and the dirtiness. All he saw was those beautiful eyes, filled to the brim with a medley of emotions that over-washed him with such force.

"I won't do it Newt. I won't give up on us."

"Tommy please, kill me now as I am. I don't want you to see me become... one of them." He glanced over to a group of cranks, all of which had gone far past the point of insanity. They were crowded in a mob, attacking and... eating whatever poor creature was under them. Thomas hoped it was a dog or another animal, but his gut churned as he thought of the other possibility. 

Thomas shook his head, forcing his hand away from Newt he threw the weapon as far away as he could. It made a metallic clang as it hit the hard concrete, and the small cluster of clanks, only a short distance away, looked over to the source of the noise. Thomas stared them down, his breathe held tight until they decided to return to whatever corpse they had been savagely feasting on.

"Newt I'm not walking away from this, and neither are you." He carried on in urgent whispers, not wanting to attract anymore unwanted attention. "Were gonna get you through this. I am going to stay with you and make what ever difference I can make. I don't know how, but somehow, I will save you Newt... because I love you."

The blonde's eyes softened, and right then he looked like his old self again. "Tommy... I love you so much, but I will just make your life hell until I die. I don't want that. I'm unstable, and volatile, I could hurt you... or worse."

"I don't care Newt!" Thomas yelled without thinking, desperation getting the best of him. "My life will be meaningless without you." He wasn't a fool, he knew there was a lot at stake. But if there was one thing he learned by being with Newt was that it was their differences that taught them how to use their gifts and tools to get through each obstacle before this point. Whether it was Thomas' ability to push the blonde to help lead the Gladers to safety, or whether it was Newt, holding Thomas back from doing something stupid in a fit of rage, or a burst of excitement. Their uncanny ability to calm each other down, or spur the other on at vital moments. Newt's silent support had kept him going more than anything, and he didn't know if he could continue without it. In truth, not having Newt there to have his back scared him to death.

"Thomas, you can't do this to me please. I will suffer! I will burn from the inside, I will become corrupt and insane. I don't want to!" 

Thomas took Newt's head in his hands, closing the gap between them and kissed him with all the love he had. Newt froze against him initially, but soon reacted, deepening the kiss before pulling back. A hint of a smile graced his face, and suddenly he looked radiantly beautiful. "Tommy..."

"Newt... if it goes bad, I promise you, I will end it. I will give you what you want, but we have to try." Even if their star did fall and burn, at least they would have fought to make it work. It was important that they didn't break or burn now, that they intend to make it work, where so many more would have given up. They would learn to bend with the weight of the world, without letting it cave in on them. 

Suddenly Newt pulled him into a bear hug, squeezing him so tight that his ribs hurt under the strain. He felt dampness on his shoulders where Newt's tears had begun to fall. "Okay Tommy... I won't give up if you won't." Thomas pulled back, beaming a smile at his blonde. He couldn't believe the acceptance when the words finally escaped the other's mouth. He kissed him again, soft and tender, and as he did he could fell the familiarity of the old Newt holding onto him. 

As they broke Thomas noticed an uncomfortable closeness around them. Looking to his right he saw three of the cranks who had been feasting earlier now closer to them, staring at them with crazed eyes. Eyes far more gone than Newt's had ever even begun to be. There was no way he could leave the blonde in their company. They had to leave, now.

"Newt, hold my hand and follow me quickly. Don't look back." His blonde nodded fervently, the intensity of the situation seemingly clearing any crazed confusion out of his mind, his eyes for the first time as clear as they had been back in the Glade. 

In one smooth movement Thomas got up and quickly retrieved the gun he had previously discarded, before sprinting back towards the car he had gotten out of to meet the man he thought he would never see alive again. The group of cranks immediately gave chase, reacting to the sudden movement, beginning the hunt. One of them, a well built man in a beaten up business suit viciously wielded what looked like a rusted pick axe. Two were male, the one female howling cannibalistic noises out of a dislocated jaw as she sprinted after them. The younger man, skinny but athletic in bloodied sweatpants made gargling noises, blood spewing out in bubbles from a deep gauge in his neck. The noises filled Thomas with dread as he pictured them coming from Newt's mouth. He shook his head as they continued to run, forcing the thoughts to the back of his head. 

 Reaching the car, he saw that the driver had already got out, his gun pointed at them. "What do you think you're doing! Don't come any closer with that crank or I'll shoot both of you!" Thomas carried on forward, pointing his gun out in front of him he quickly took a lucky shot at the man's armed hand. He screamed, dropping the weapon to hold his bleeding hand, red seeping out from the bullet wound. "You bastard!"

"Get in the car and drive!" Thomas ordered. "Unless you want to become crank food!" He dived into the back of the car, pulling Newt in with him. The blonde, now seemingly with all his senses, quickly pulled the door shut and locked it just as the woman reach the window. She tried the handle, and began slamming and scratching on the window when it wouldn't work, still screeching in a hideously garbled language. Her bloody fingernails scratched on the glass, maddeningly tearing away for a way to get inside.

Their driver had recovered from being shot, adrenaline pumping him into gear as the other two men reached the car, bombarding it just as the woman was, urgently seeking access to those inside. The man with the pick axe hammered it down on the window, the glass cracked under the pressure, threatening to cave in.

"Drive!" Thomas demanded, and he did. 

They drove in silence for five minutes, Newt resting his head on Thomas' chest as they cuddled in the back. The blonde had gone eerily quiet and Thomas couldn't help but feel concerned.

"Newt? You okay?"

Newt nodded his head slowly. "Yeah... just tired and... scared for the future."

"This won't end well Thomas." Their driver spoke back to them, eyeing them through his rear-view mirror. "I'm sorry, I really am. But he is infected, there is no cure."

Thomas stared him down, "Not yet." He looked back down at the love of his life, now peacefully sleeping in his lap. Thomas hoped that they might not even need a cure for Newt. careful measures maybe, love and affection he would all too gladly give, but a slight possibility of maybe finding a cure after sacrificing so many lives? Perhaps not. 

"I won't give up on you." He whispered, bringing Newt's hand up to kiss. 


	15. Breathe Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe Me by Sia for JJ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance, I know this is not my best, but I just couldn't work it out.
> 
> Here goes!
> 
> @apeddle90

His blood felt warm as it seeped out over his skin, flowing out as he drove the blade from his wrist up his arm. He had done it again. He had hurt himself, with no-one else to blame. Pain chased after the blade as it made its route up his forearm, a sharp stabbing that tingled his senses, making him feel more than his life could ever hope to. The pain blocked everything else out. He no longer felt the fear or anxiety, the sadness or the paranoia. His attention was fully absorbed in the burning sensation, his depressed life a mere glimpse in his peripheral vision. Newt made the cut deep, not critical, but deep enough for a  fine river of red to spill on to the laminated bathroom tiles. 

Newt stared at the red spots that now littered the floor where he sat. His arm felt on fire, coursing through him at lightning speed; he relished the pain. He let his head lean back against the standing shower unit, a regrettable sigh escaped his lips as the adrenaline began to fade away, his sweet forgetfulness of life fading all too quickly. In its place came the usual sense of hopefulness and despair. The trials of life encompassing him in dark over-bearing shadows. 

His teenage years proved him to be sociably awkward, an introvert who spent his school days as an outsider. Bullies beat him down into an insecure mess, and loneliness became his dark sanctuary, where no one could hurt him except his own wicked mind. Now half way to his twenty-fifth birthday, anxiety still overruled him, and although he tried to fight it, it always became too much.

"Newt you nearly done in there?"

The voice of his flat mate jolted him out of his dark mulling. He panicked, quickly washing his arm before wiping the blood from the floor. The water stung the wound as the liquid flowed red down the drain. He flushed the blooded tissues down the toilet.

"Y-yeah..." He let out, sounding out of breath. He swallowed, composing himself. "Just a minute!" 

He quickly bandaged his arm, the protective material already showed spots of crimson from the still bleeding skin, before pulling his sleeve down to hide any evidence. Since leaving home he had lost the protective love of his parents, the one thing that had kept him strong through his bullied school years. Work was what drove him from the safety of home. A degree in History landed him a job in the nearest city's museums as an archivist, nearly 80 miles away from his rural home. 

Now Newt was at the depths of a dark spiral. He missed his home and his parents, his work was tedious and his life was lonely. He yearned for social interaction as much as he feared it, and each day was becoming harder than the one before. He adamantly refused to seek help, or show any weakness, not wanting to unleash his burdens onto anyone else. The only person that he could call a friend was his room mate, who somehow put up with him with his positively perky personality. 

A quick rap knocked on the door, echoing through the room. "Newt I can guarantee you your hair looks amazing. Now shift it! I'm bursting for a piss!"

Thomas. The compliment and choice following phrase brought a smile to Newt's face despite his dark mood. The young writer had warmed to Newt almost immediately after meeting him, and they had solidified a close friendship quickly. A friendship that, in truth, had stopped Newt from cutting any deeper than he had, though their relationship in turn churned its own internal struggle inside him. Thomas was charming, handsome, debonair, and owned a smile that could melt Newt's stone heart into soft putty. 

It scared him. He had never felt close to anyone past his own parents, and the thought of letting someone in was overwhelming. Fear of rejection was worse, it paralyzed him from making any sort of move. He was stuck. He wanted friends, he wanted love, he wanted affection and warmth and comfort. All things that Thomas already gave him through a hand on his shoulder, or against his side as he walked past, sending shocks through Newt's body. But he also couldn't take the risk, to be ignored, shunned, rebuked. 

Knowing he couldn't keep Thomas from answering nature's call any longer, Newt left the bathroom. A blur whizzed by him and the door was shut again before Newt could even say a word. He made his way to his dark bedroom and plonked himself face-down on his mattress. His arm hurt, yet it already itched for more punishment. He closed his eyes tight, hoping for sleep to escape his wicked torment. 

"Newt?"

The soft voice whispered into the room. Newt remained still, wanting only to rest in sweet solitary, making his breathing heavy to convey the charade of being asleep. He heard the door close quietly, a moment of silence put him at ease before he heard gentle footsteps make their way to his side of the bed. He sensed Thomas crouch down in front of him, he could feel warm eyes focused on where he lay. Newt turned his head into the pillow, expressing no want of communication with his room mate. 

"Newt you don't fall asleep that quickly, you can't fool me. I want to talk to you."

There was no escaping, not without coming across as a complete arse. Newt sighed in resignation as he let his eyes shutter open. Thomas had left the light off and darkness obscured his vision. Slowly they adjusted, and Thomas' face became clearer to him. His mouth was thin and his eyes were filled with concern, a look that made Newt feel ashamed. 

"What is it Tommy?"

Thomas folded his arms on the bed, resting his head sideways on them. Newt made himself remain still, their faces mere inches away from each other. Thomas' beauty up close was enigmatic, captivating Newt like a fly in a spider's silken web. 

"Why..." Thomas stopped, his brow furrowed as he struggled to find the words that he wanted. "Why were there bloody tissues in the toilet just now?"

Newt froze, he had been sure he had flushed them away. Now Thomas had found evidence of his activity and he had come straight to him as an embodiment of caring concern. The kindness warmed his heart, but the assumption - as true as it was - hurt him. The first thought in Thomas' head had been what was true - had Newt hidden his self-harming so badly that a person as oblivious to things as Thomas could see? 

"Because I had a nose bleed." He answered shortly. Thomas just squinted at him, looking him over - almost surgically inspecting him. "Is that alright?" Newt finished.

"A nose bleed?" Newt nodded in confirmation, not wanting to speak in case his words sounded haughty. "Your nostrils aren't red at all."

"What?"

"When you have a nose bleed, your nostrils get marked with dried blood. Newt, there's no blood." Thomas spoke in a calm but pressuring tone.

"Thank you for the lesson Professor." Newt shot back sarcastically.

"Newt let me see your arms." 

"What?"

"Your arms - specifically your left one, the one that has its sleeve pulled all the way down." Newt cursed Thomas' sudden acute observation skills.

"Why?"

"Because Newt - I think you've hurt yourself and I want to help."

"Are you insane? Get out!" He raised his voice, hoping to scare Thomas away, but he only stayed there, adamant and motionless with his eyes fixed on him.

"No - show me your arm."

"There's nothing to see!"

"Then you wont' mind showing it to me then will you?"

Newt was now sat up in bed, resisting the urge to slap Thomas around the face. 

"Thomas just drop it. Get out." The use of his full name usually told Thomas that enough was enough, and it usually worked. Not this time.

"No." The brunette closed a firm hand around his covered arm. Newt couldn't stop the yelp that came out from the pain as the pressure closed around his aggravated wound. Thomas looked at him with an apologetic sadness. "Newt, please."

Anger gave way to defeat and Newt let his body sit loose, defenseless. He let his head nod weakly, permitting his friend to do as he wished. Thomas gave his own tentative nod as a reply, before gently rolling up the sleeve that was hiding a bandaged arm. Thomas flicked on a bedside lamp to get a better look, Newt's eyes shut in response to the sudden light. He kept them that way, not wanting to see Thomas' face at his discovery. 

The bandages were more red than white, the blood already drying on the other side. "Why didn't you come to me?" Thomas asked, his voice was quiet, as if carried over yonder by a gentle breeze, faint and gentle. "What made you do this to yourself?"

Newt kept his eyes close, trying to relocate the darkness that was there before, to hide in its depths away from a world that had become too much. A soft hand on his cheek brought him back, he opened his eyes as Thomas stroked his thumb along his skin, almost lovingly. "Talk to me Newt, I'm not going anywhere."

"Life."

Thomas looked at him questioningly, not in a doubtful way, but curious - a need to understand burning in his eyes. "What about it? Tell me, let me help you"

"Why? Why help me?"

"What do you mean why? Because I care about you! I don't want to see you hurt like this. I'm ashamed I hadn't noticed sooner, you've always seemed okay."

Newt had plenty of practice of putting up a strong front, hiding his problems away from people, in fear they might treat him differently. Pity was the worst, his father had shown him pity, he hated the very word. People never fully understood, they pretended to care or to sympathize, but they had no clue what was wrong. 

He looked at Thomas, the man still stroking his cheek softly, it felt good. Newt wasn't used to contact, he shielded himself away from it, afraid of letting people in, where they could hurt him. But this felt different, the fear wasn't there, only pleasantness. Thomas had always been so nice to him, many days had gone by where he had only got through because of Thomas. The man didn't even know what he was doing, just his smile, or his laugh, or how he seemed to both understand and appreciate Newt's quieter lifestyle. He never forced Newt to social gatherings, nor did he ever dump his own friends onto him. He kept their home as a quiet solace, a sanctuary for Newt to reside in, without even thinking.

"Why do you care so much?"

"I don't know, I just do. Truth be told Newt, I've cared about you since day one. You're special... I..." Words failed him, his mind and heart seeming to battle each other.

"Tommy?"

"I don't want you to hurt Newt, I want you to be happy. Tell me what I can do."

The warmth and intensity from Thomas tore down his defenses. He felt the tears roll down his face as he gave them up, his heart feeling lighter at the release of the burden. 

"H-hold me..."

He hand't meant to say the words, they sounded weak and pathetic on his quivering lips. But it was what he needed, someone to give in to, to just touch and not be afraid. To be held and comforted by someone who wasn't his mother. 

A weight settled on the bed next to him, and strong arms gathered him up in a strong embrace. Thomas lay next to him, holding him close against his body. Newt laid his head on the man's chest, listening to the steady heartbeat beneath. Thomas placed a kiss on his head as he caressed a hand along Newt's shoulder. Their legs entwined, and their free hands held each others, fingers slotting together like pieces of the same puzzle. 

Laying there in their cocoon, Newt let himself go. Tears soaked Thomas' t-shirt, but he didn't seem to mind, he just held Newt there tightly. Thomas' silence was golden, his presence enough to comfort him. Before he knew it Newt found himself telling all he could tell. He let go of his inhibitions, and gave up how he felt inside. His sentences were incoherent, sometime just single words, a medley of raw emotions flooded out in a swarm, and Thomas listened to it all. 

Once all was out Newt felt his tears stop, and the room silent from pain and fear. He matched his breathing with Thomas' steady pace, his heart felt free as a bird, and his lungs clear and open. He felt reinvigorated, calm, and at peace, something he had not felt for years. It was as if Thomas had breathed him in, cleansing him from all fear and doubt, shedding light where there was once only darkness. 

"Tommy?"

"Yes Newt?"

"Thank you..."

Another kiss touched his forehead, it tingled down his skin and struck his swelling heart. He knew then that he loved his flat mate, and for the first time in his life, he felt loved in return.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. We Found Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We Found Love by Rihanna feat. Calvin Harris for Sabina Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For you Sab, thanks for your support on here & twitter - I've let you jump the queue ;)  
> Awesome song choice considering the story, very apt for Newtmas :)  
> Dashner's given us quite a few hopeless places in TMR :/ I've gone for the first - The Glade.  
> @apeddle90

A velvet black sky descended over the glade, marking his seventh night. He had made it to the end of his first week, one that Alby agreed had been the most eventful series of days since he first landed in an empty wasteland years ago. Still known as a greenie, Thomas had survived a night of terrors in the maze, killed a griever, become a runner and found the first tangible clue of a possible way out of the maze. He had made confidants in Minho and Alby, a best friend in Chuck, gained the trust of most other gladers, and come across hostile opposition from Gally and his cronies. But most of all in his mind, he had found Newt.

Upon his sudden launch into the unknown habitat, Thomas had freaked. A collage of questioning faces, each lacerated with humorous mockery, had leered down at him - a buzz of judgmental comments engulfing his eardrums. He had ran, adrenaline pumping his legs underneath him until they gave way, his body falling to the dust heavily. His tumultuous start sparked a chain of dramatic events, all seemingly centered on him, leading them to this point. 

The dark night marked the end of his first week in the glade. Tomorrow's first glimpse of dawn, with Newt's blessing and Gally's fury, would commence his role as a runner. Gally had personally branded Thomas an enemy, not just of him, but for all the gladers - a catalyst after such a long time with naught changing. He had wanted Thomas punished for breaking the rules, but he had found himself out-voted, and had skulked off with clenched fists and a furrowed brow.

Reckless or not, his initial seven days had passed, and it was tradition to mark the endeavor. Despite the testy air between some of the gladers, tonight was to be one of celebration. A roaring bonfire blazed in the center of the Glade, a fierce beacon of light and hope shining yellow diamonds across the midnight sky. Crafted kettle drums, wooden xylophones and rhythmic shakers played a lively ruckus of raw music. Moonshine passed around the boys, and Frypan's suckling pig with cidered apples, roast potatoes and spiced cabbage made a welcome change from the usual mundane food offerings. 

Thomas found himself stood next to Newt by the flame, the light reflected off the blonde's face, radiating its sharp lines and features, his brown eyes lightened to a warm caramel. The warm fire enhanced Newt's beauty when Thomas thought there could be no room left for improvement. They stood close, their shadows crossing over each other in the fire's aura, their hands locked together. Newt brought a canteen of moonshine to his lips, downing the burning liquid with ease. He licked his lips slowly, catching Thomas' eyes, a smirk grew upon his face. He offered the drink casket to him.

"Drink up Tommy, you'll always be a greenie if you can't handle the stuff. Even Chuck doesn't turn his nose up at it anymore. Tonight is your night, show them how far you have come."

Like he needed to show anyone, he had done more than most of the boys there. One of the rules of the glade was to do your part, and he had done his one hundred times over. In truth, most of the other boys pissed him off with their lack of ambition, their sorry state of acceptance that each day was like its last, and as the morrow would  prove to be. Newt was different. He had created, grafted, organised, ran, led, and encouraged - putting his own needs after everyone else's. If it wasn't for Newt, Thomas would not have survived a day, let alone a week. He took the drink from the blonde, and downed the rest in one large draft. His throat burned as the substance coursed its way inside of him, but he kept his face calm, and waited for the comforting warmth to take over him.

"Good that." Newt said, his grip on Thomas' hand tightened. "Now I don't know about you, but I've grown tired of this little gathering." The party was already into its fifth hour, if there was a timepiece present, it would surely have shown an early hour of the morning. Thomas grinned, bored of the party maybe, but he knew Newt was not quite finished with him yet. 

"Woods?"

Newt's smile grew devilish, a spark in his eye gave away his true intent, making Thomas shudder in chaste anticipation. Of all the adventures he had experienced in his time in that hopeless place buried within an impossible maze, Newt was his most triumphant. They had found love in each other, a love that pushed them both on despite all their hardships. A love that burned more fierce than the night's bonfire, one that Thomas was sure was within him before the loss of his memory. He had felt it, as soon as his eyes caught sight of Newt, a faded memory of something special, something he needed to grab hold of and never let go. 

"Lets go then Greenie." Newt's accented voice slurred as he led Thomas towards the trees, away from everyone else. 

Thomas scoffed, "Still a Greenie after all huh?"

Newt pulled him close, swinging an arm over his shoulder, a warm kiss pressed onto his ear. "Tommy you're a Greenie until the next one gets brought up in the box. Ceremony or not." He kept close, his breathe warm on Thomas' ear, tickling, but he didn't move away. "You'll always be my Greenie though Tommy." Newt carried on, his tone loving, yet serious. "I'll always look after you." 

They reached the shelter of the crowded trees, Newt led him in towards their usual spot. Their firm attachment to one another was not something they hid from the other gladers, they all knew of their relationship. But they never outwardly flaunted it, they belonged to each other, and they liked to keep their affection close and private. Their love making was slow and meaningful, Thomas relishing each and every thrust into Newt's warm welcoming body. They fitted together perfectly, writhing as one, their voices a symphony of pleasured moans - drowning among the still vibrant sounds near the fire. 

They lay close in the aftermath, their heads swimming in a smoke of lust and love. Thomas held Newt close, breathing him in, his hands tracing patterns on a naked back. His eyes felt heavy as his body fully relaxed against a grand oak. Their grand oak, it had witnessed their love from their first time, and every time since - almost as much a part of their relationship as they were. 

"Tommy, you stick close to Minho tomorrow. Don't do any thing stupid, or reckless, and if you get the urge to do so - ignore it. No more nights in the maze yeah?"

The thought of another night in that dreadful place was enough for him to agree. The other's had named him a warrior, a leader, at the news of the griever that had been slain at his hands. But he knew he had just been lucky, and may not be quite so lucky again. He hated to think how Newt must have felt, waiting for the inevitable news of his death, not knowing what was going on. 

"I promise. I'll always return to you." It had been Newt that made him survive the night. The thought of reuniting with his lover had spurred him on to survival in a place where no-one else had. "I love you Newt. I'm so glad I found you."

Without Newt he would have given up in the hopeless place that was the Glade. Living was hard, the days long and unforgiving, with no sight of getting out. Newt gave him relief, comfort, a reason to live. As for Thomas, he had no idea just how true that was for the blonde as well. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short I know, I focused mainly on the first verse of the song, and of course the chorus.   
> Hope you like it Sab x


	17. Forever And Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forever And Always by Parachute for Allia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was starting to catch up with these. Haven't checked inbox for a few days and found 8 more requests on top of the 16 i still had to do XD  
> I must try and do one a day, but don't think that I can - I'm so sorry, but I can't type until it feels right, and I won't post until I'm happy with it :) 
> 
> This is a beautiful song, I had to listen to it a few times to fully submerge myself. Not many songs tell a story as this one does, and it writes itself - I just hope I do it justice for you. If you haven't heard the song before, play it now. You will probably cry, but it will be worth it. 
> 
> @apeddle90
> 
> @apeddle90

Newt stood atop the great hill, a single grand oak stood boldly in the centre, striking a gallant silhouette against the early evening sky. This was his favourite place in the world, with his little town sat in the valley below he felt on top of the world, above life itself, away from its constant rush and pressure. Here he could breathe, the higher air clean inside his lungs. Here he could shout, and no-one would hear. The summer nights were long, and the sun was just starting to set beneath the distant horizon, redness infiltrating through the darkening blue sky creating a beautiful whirlpool of colour.

"Hey."

He smiled at the warm voice, before turning around to face the man who had stepped from behind the enigmatic tree. Newt loved his sanctuary up high on the grassy plateau, and what he loved most of all was that he didn't have it to himself. Another soul shared it with him, a soul that had collided with his and never grew apart. The man he loved more than his paradise, because without him it would just be another patch of land, a beautiful one, but nothing more than that.

Thomas stood in front of him, one hand shoved sheepishly in his back jean pocket, the other leaning on the bark of the oak. The sun sank behind him, surrounding him in a gently warming orange glow, his dark brown eyes glittering with its reflections. This place was not just Newt's, it was theirs. They had spent their first date there, shared their first kiss, and experienced love's true embrace under a midnight sky beneath the protective shadow of the gargantuan tree.

"Happy birthday Newt." The brunette continued, lifting his hand away from the tree to offer it out. Newt obediently took it an let himself be led around to the other side of the hill. Hidden behind the oak was a laid out picnic that he had not noticed on his way up to their planned rendezvous. It was his twenty-second birthday, and as they met at his eighteenth birthday party, it was also their four year anniversary. Thomas had pushed a hand written letter through his postbox that morning, formally inviting him to a romantic evening for two. The man was chivalry personified, Newt felt blessed to have met such a person, let alone  be adored by one.

"Thanks Tommy, you know a take-away would have been fine -" The words died in his throat as he gazed upon the spread that was laid out before him. Upon a plush blanket sat a medley of plump cushions, surrounding Newt's favourite foods. Smoked salmon doused in lemon and speckled with fish roe, a baked Camembert, cooled by the air, and studded with rosemary and garlic, was surrounded by crudites and baked olive bread. Ruby red strawberries sat next to an ice bucket, a bottle of chilling champagne resting inside. Just offside was an old kettle drum, heavy and rusted, it must have taken Thomas ages to get it up the hill where it sat. Inside the steel contraption a warming fire quietly crackled away, lighting up the twilight hour. 

Newt stared at his boyfriend, the man looked tentative and unsure, anxiety seemed to rack him from the inside. He looked right back at him, gazing into him with such intent that made him shiver. He wanted to chide him for doing too much, for trying too hard. Thomas always went over the top on gifts and dates, and Newt always felt the pressure to repay the debt, despite Thomas insisting there was never any need - that he was recompense enough. So he kept is simple and true, whispering despite their solitary on the hill-top. "Tommy, this is amazing. Thank you."

"Can I take you order Sir?"

Newt shook his head, clearing it from fond memories as he was brought back to the present. A snobby looking waiter in full tails was watching him arrogantly, a clean white towel draped around the arm that was carrying an empty drinks tray. Newt brought his already full glass of white wine close to him, stirring it in his hand gently. 

"Not yet thank you, I'm waiting for someone."

The waiter made an event of checking his watch. "Sir, it has been almost half an hour. Perhaps-"

"He will be here." Newt interrupted sternly. The waiter nodded sharply, acknowledging the rebuke, before trotting off to his next table. Newt sighed, it was not like Thomas to be late for anything, especially when it was something as important as this. Today marked his twenty-eighth birthday, and more importantly, their tenth anniversary as a couple. Thomas had booked them a table as a fancy restaurant, for once Newt had been let in on the plans an he had been looking forward to it for weeks.

They were supposed to meet there after work, but the brunette was now thirty minutes left. He had tried calling Thomas, but his phone was unusually turned off. Newt contented himself with the possibility of a late meeting overrunning, and that Thomas was unable to escape. Not being used to having to wait on his partner, Newt slowly sipped at his glass of wine, and busied himself with looking at the menu - trying to mentally pronounce all the posh names for food to occupy his mind.

An elegant chandelier suspended above the table illuminated the setting gloriously. The light shone through his wine glass, shining off the ring on his finger. Newt stared at the silver band, watching the metal reflect the rippling light in wonder. Six years their engagement had blazoned on for, still in their youth they hadn't rushed to get married. They enjoyed their young years, travelling the world together, enriching their souls and strengthening their bonds until nothing could break them. Newt knew it would happen, the time felt right. He would bring it u[ tonight, plan a spring wedding next year, it would be perfect. Just like everything else.

Newt found himself speechless when Thomas got down on one knee before him. His tongue dried up and stuck to the roof of his mouth. He could only stare in awe and listen to Thomas' beautifully articulated words echo through his mind.  "Newt, I- I want you forever, forever and always." He swallowed thickly, his body shook with anxiety, with fear of rebuttal. Newt wanted to embrace him then, to stop his needless worrying, but he couldn't move. He had dreamed of this happening, for Thomas to ask him to be his, but not once did he imagine it would happen in such a perfect way. "Through the good, and the bad, and the ugly. I want us to grow old together... forever... and always." Thomas raised his fingers that grasped fiercely onto the ring, the dwindling fire radiated through its facets, making it glow. "Will you marry me Newt?"

His ringtone startled him, he always set it loud so he could hear it through the busy commute to and from work, and had forgotten to lower it again. He ignored the annoyed glances from nearby tables and quickly answered the call without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Newt! Newt... I- I'm sorry... you have to come now-"

Thomas' best friend's urgent voice ripped down the phone line, sounding hysterical whilst trying to come across as calm. Newt interrupted her, a horrid sinking feeling twisting his gut. For what reason could Teresa be calling him? Their only shared interest was Thomas, and apart from him neither could agree, or get on about anything. The woman grated on him with her constant nagging on his boyfriend, and he knew she held him in no high regard. 

"Teresa - stop. Breathe. What's wrong?" He asked, but he knew. The empty space across his table told him enough, and he braced himself for the woman's words. They came choked as she fought back tears.

"It's Thomas. He's - something's happened. You have to come to the hospital. Now."

Newt shut the call off immediately. His mind raced for answers, but he wasn't ready for them. Throwing a twenty pound note on to the table he grabbed his jacket and fled the restaurant. The sky bled red as the sun began to set, light blue darkening to a deep purple. It reminded him of their hilltop all those years ago. The grand oak, the champagne, the hopeful man bent on one knee. 

He reached his car, yanking open the door he threw the vehicle into gear and sped off for the local hospital. His hands shook on the steering wheel as he drove, his heart racing as he failed to keep the fear and panic from encapsulating him.  _You're okay Tommy, you're okay. I'm coming._ Their anniversary meal was now lost to his mind, all that mattered was his Thomas.  _  
_

Newt couldn't say how he got to the hospital, at least, not in one piece. The journey had been a blur of worried thoughts and he couldn't recall a single maneuver, his mind completely focused on Thomas. He pulled up by the entrance, an eerie silence engulfing him as he turned the engine off. He looked towards the entrance, his hands gripping limply on the steering wheel. The doors looked foreboding to him, fateful and final. They glued him to the spot, the fear of what may be glued him to the spot.

A deceitful thought overcame him. He could turn around and go back home. If he did not go in then he would never know what happened to Thomas, whats more he could not verify it. He could live his life, pretending that Thomas was okay somewhere. He scolded himself, Thomas deserved better than that, he would not abandon him now. Taking a deep breath he left his vehicle and walked quickly through the automatic glass doors. 

The evening was still early, and the lobby was quiet - waiting for the usual rush of Saturday night drunken injuries. The light hurt Newt's eyes, the room's walls, ceiling and floor were white, all reflecting high-powered light strips that ran along the ceiling. He approached the reception desk, a middle-aged woman wore her graying hair in a tight bun, and horn-rimmed spectacles sat steeped on her nose.  

"Can I help you?" She asked sweetly as he approached the desk, probably reading the concern all over his face.

"I'm here to see Thomas... Thomas Green?" His heart froze as she gave him a pitied look of sadness. "May I ask your relation to him Mr..."

"Call me Newt." He finished for her. "I'm his fiancee - what's happened? Is he okay?"

"Follow me Newt." He fell in behind her obediently as she led him down corridor after corridor. A maze of double doors, long paves of walkway, and horrid ceiling light strips. The polite nurse talked to him along the way, words that he heard but was unable to absorb. He recognized the words 'car accident', 'ruptured' and 'internal bleeding', words which made his footsteps heavy, his mind faint and his eyes sting. 

The corridors seemed endless, and before long the nurse fell into a somber silence, respecting his silence. Her heels click-clacked against the shiny laminated flooring, a sound Newt wished would stop. Soon they did, and he wished that they had not. Room 301 stood in front of him, and Thomas was behind it. 

"I'll leave you here, if you need anything, just use the phone by the bed for reception."

He nodded numbly and watched her click-clack her way as she started the long journey back to her desk. Newt closed his eyes and built up his confidence - he would not let Thomas see him like this, he must be scared and would need his support. He tried to keep a straight face as he walked into the room. There on the bed lay Thomas, his eyes were heavy but awake and alert. His head was wrapped in a bandage, the rest of his body was concealed under blankets, but Newt could see the ghost-shape of a crumpled body where the sheets settled. The machine he was wired up to  beeped steadily, a drip was attached to his arm, but it was the warm smile the man gave that made Newt's face crumble.

"Tommy..."

His attention had all been taken by the injured man, he only noticed Teresa for the first time when she stood up from the bedside chair. She walked over and embraced him, her eyes were red from crying, and she looked tired and wrought. He hugged her back automatically, sharing a strange closeness they had never experienced with each other. She sniffed as they parted, keeping her hands on his shoulders, gripping on tight. "I'll give you some time alone. I'm sorry Newt." She brushed past him on the way out, quietly closing the door behind her, leaving the two men alone for the first time that day.

He wiped his eyes before looking at Thomas, the man gave him another weak smile, despite the pain he must inevitably be going through. "Hey Newt... sorry I didn't make it to dinner."

Newt surprised himself by letting out a hushed bark of a laugh, followed by a sniff. "You stupid sod... half n hour you made me wait." He sat down next to the bed, mirroring Thomas' smile as he held his hand in his own. He gripped on too tightly, and Thomas gripped back harder. 

"What happened?" 

Thomas looked down. "I don't remember much. I was on my way to meet you, then... headlights... a lorry I think... I don't know. Then I woke up here, I..." He was stopped by a violent coughing fit, pain evident on his face as he closed his eyes each time he hacked. Newt found a tissue on the bedside, using it he wiped at Thomas' mouth, cleaning up the specks of blood that had appeared there. 

"Hey... don't worry about it. You just work on getting better okay?" 

Thomas glanced at him sadly. "Newt... I don't think I'm gonna be getting better."

"No Tommy." He would not believe it, not now - it wouldn't be fair. "Don't talk like that. You and me, we've got so much to do together still. Were gonna get married, and that house we were gonna build at the bottom of our hill? Remember that?"

"How could I forget?" Thomas chuckled dryly. "A farm-style cottage with white fencing outside, golden Labrador, a kid of our own. I've got it all written down up here." He tapped the side of his bandaged head. "A tyre swing on our Oak, barbecues on the patio, and a jacuzzi out the back." Newt smiled fondly at the dream they had planned of for years. He fondled the ring on Thomas' finger, next to his own. Thomas noticed the two silver bands together. "Newt, I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry!" Newt blurted, his eyes weeping slow tear drops at the realization of dreams that would go forever wanting. "I was going to suggest a wedding date tonight."

The smile was back on his boyfriend's face, Newt vowed to keep it there for the rest of his days. "Oh? When were you thinking?"

"Next spring... under our majestic oak on a crystal clear day. You, me, close friends and family, and a grand picnic. Your perfect proposal re-lived on our wedding day."

A sniff made him look up from the rings to see Thomas fighting back his own tears, though his smile meant them to be happy ones. "Newt... that's perfect." Thomas brought a hand to Newt's face, and he leaned into the touch, memorizing its feel for the future. "I wish I could give that to you."

A thought came to him as he let gentle fingers stroke through his hair. "Well Tommy, a hospital room, Teresa and a couple of nurses will do just fine."

Thomas searched his face with a questioning look. "Newt?"

"Marry me here, now, I'm gonna be yours forever Tommy, lets make it official." He leaned carefully over his delicate fiancee, to kiss him passionately. Thomas responded eagerly, humming pleasurably. They both smiled like fools when they broke apart. "Yes Newt. But...how?"

"Leave it with me."

Twenty minutes later and Newt sat next to Thomas, each holding a gold ring generously donated from other patients on the  corridor, who were more than pleased to help fulfill their dream. Teresa stood on the other side of the bed, her hand on Thomas' shoulder, tears of joy spilling down her face. The hospital's Chaplin stood at the foot of the bed, and two nurses acted as witnesses. They made their vows to each other there in front of the room, as everyone laughed tears  onto the floor. 

"I want you forever, forever and always. Through the good, and the bad, and the ugly. We'll grow old together and always remember, whether happy, or sad, or whatever."

Newt said his personal vows he had set in his mind since their engagement. The words hurt him deep inside, but every word was true. No matter what, Thomas would be his forever, and he would remain with him in his heart for the rest of time. He finished his vows, and they consummated their marriage with a long loving kiss, Newt mapped Thomas' mouth, etching it into his memory. 

"Newt..."

The beep that was Thomas' heartbeat had been growing slower throughout the ceremony, and was now at its slowest.

"Tommy...?"

Thomas' voice was low when he spoke, he breathe light and laboured, and Newt listened with wet eyes and a knowing heavy heart.

"I... love you forever... forever and always... please... just remember... even if I'm not there...I'll always love you... forever and always..."

As Thomas closed his eyes, the beeping noise ceased, and the room fell silent.

"Tommy..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	18. Bring Me To Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bring Me To Life by Evanescence for SuicideSerenade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 Kudos reached today :3 Thanks guys!
> 
> This is one of my favourite songs of all time, so thanks for requesting it!
> 
> @apeddle90

His alarm clock trilled its annoying chiming sounds through the room, refusing to stop despite his best intentions, until he launched it across the room. It shattered on impact as it reached the hard wall, time pieces littering the floor among shards of both metal and plastic. Newt wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and hide away from the world, but that was not an option. He had a deadline to meet and a story to write if he wanted to keep any hope of maintaining a roof over his head for the foreseeable future.

Writing had come easy to him once, chapter after chapter, keeping his editor happy. That was before Thomas had left. Today marked the first year since his abrupt departure, leaving a bewildered Newt all alone. His first book had been nearly complete, and he had just managed to keep it together long enough to get it published and on the shelves. It sold well, not brilliantly, but enough to spur a demand for his next installment.

Progress got slower and slower, until it almost stopped. After Thomas left he found he couldn't cope. The love of his life had just walked out on him, with nothing more than a scrawled apology on a post it note, no explanation, no sentiments - just a _sorry Newt._ Shock led into anger, which led to questioning, which led to heartbreak and depression. He just stopped living. He couldn't understand how Thomas could hurt him so much, to abandon him with no preemptive warning signals that anything had been wrong. 

He dragged  himself out of bed, and forced his feet to take him to the bathroom where he showered before getting dressed, He kept his outfit simple, baggy bottoms and tank top, not too dissimilar to what he wore to bed. He looked in the mirror, his hair was a nest of blond, he raked a hand through it and left it as it was. His eyes showed signs of tiredness, his jawline was scuffed by a week-old stubble and his skin was pale; lacking in sunshine . He let out a disinterested grunt, it wasn't like anyone would be seeing him, his appearance no longer mattered to him, along with most other things. 

Since being left alone, he soon found that he preferred it that way. His family and friends tried to help him, to comfort him and help him move on. It pissed him off. Who were they to tell him what to do? Their attention was too much, and he felt better locked away in his own space. Minho had persisted the longest, even now still ringing him and inviting him out. Every call he left unanswered, every text with no reply, eventually even Minho had got the picture. 

It wasn't that he didn't want them in his life, it was just that he could no longer cope with life - including everything that came with it. The only person he communicated with regularly was his editor, and recently that had only been orders to pick his game up or lose the deal. He ordered all his groceries online, he shocked himself when he tried to leave his flat and found that terror took hold of him in an iron grip. Now he had given up of the idea of leaving his home, feeling safer and more secure locked up in his own sanctuary. Of course sanctuaries required money, and money from his first book was running out quickly. His second was two-thirds complete, a task that had taken hours of painless soul searching for hands that would not type. His deadline loomed over him, just eight weeks away, he had to get his act together. 

He made himself a hot coffee and sat it down on his basic wooden desk next to his over-stared at computer monitor. A static buzz hummed as he switched on its power. The morning rays were creeping through his shut blinds, he would keep them shut, he found he worked better in the dimness. He sipped at his brew as he waited for the computer to load his work. Forty chapters in with another sixteen planned, he had his work cut out. He glanced at his desk calendar, each day had been marked with a red cross as it passed - today's date had been circled.  _One year_   was written inside it in his neat handwriting. It had been that long since Thomas had left him, and the milestone made it hurt that little bit more. _  
_

The morning went as most did, long and laborious, with not much to show for it. He kept to coffee until mid-afternoon, only then resorting to a toasted cheese sandwich. His weight had suffered from his bad habits, a meager eight and a half stone, his collar and hip bones protruded against his skin as sharp angles. Coffee was the fuel that got him through the days, it kept his mind awake and his fingers typing. Even if it was only half a chapter by the end of it. He saved the little work he had done and opened his browser to order the week's groceries, munching on what he called lunch as he did so. 

The doorbell chimed, making him jump out of his skin. It had been so long since he had heard it that he had forgotten what it sounded like. He stared at his phone, Minho would usually come knowing after his attempts to reach him by phone failed, which was every time. He would knock and call and shout, and Newt would shout back, and eventually he would leave. However no missed calls or messages showed on his phone. The bell rang again, Newt chose to ignore it, whoever it was would give up and go away, and he didn't feel like listening to charity pleas. 

He finished off his lunch and began to make  himself a fresh coffee when the bell went for a third time. This time, the guest did not let it finish its chime, instead pressing the button repeatedly, sending a constant stream of high-pitched chirps through the apartment. Two minutes of uninterrupted chiming sent Newt insane and he stormed to the front door. Ripping it open, he took a deep breath to yell at whoever it was, only to have it collapse in on itself as he stared at the man in front of him.

Standing there, in jeans and a simple black t-shirt, looking meek and unsure, was Thomas. His finger stayed dumbly frozen in the air above the doorbell it had been pressing relentlessly, his eyes wide with sudden surprise as if he had been expecting someone else. 

"Newt..."

Newt slammed the door shut. His mind reeled a million miles as he turned his back to the door, hands flat against the wooden surface. He thought he must be mistaken, but no - there was no way he would forget that face. He had come back, out of the blue, just like he had left before. After all this time he had just walked up to the door as if he had just popped out to get some milk. Anger took him as the doorbell rang again, he opened it quickly this time.

"Newt.. I-"

Thomas wheeled backwards as Newt landed a firm punch to his jaw, slamming against the opposite wall, he let out a sharp yelp of pain. Newt stood over him, his chest raising up and down heavily. Thomas leant against the wall with one hand, the other clutching his jaw. He looked at Newt with eyes bright with fear and acceptance, and a sadness that tore at his heart.

"Newt... please let me -"

He couldn't say what drove him to do it. Maybe it was the intense eyes, or the familiar face, or the sorrow he felt from hurting him. Or maybe it was the man he had thought he had lost forever, who he had loved with all his heart, stood in front of him again - looking as godly as he did three hundred and sixty five days before. Newt moved forward, Thomas held his arms up in defence, but he knocked them away, rushing forward to crash their lips together. A shocked muffled noise came from Thomas and entered him as he pressed their mouths together firmly. Strong arms soon found their way around him, and his tongue was granted access to the warm cavern he used to have mapped out by heart. 

Memories flooded back, and Newt felt him being woken up inside, his lungs swelled and his heart soared as if brought back to life. The kiss was long and passionate, and Newt felt himself pushed back inside his flat - _their_ flat. He felt weak for throwing himself at the brunette immediately, but he couldn't fight it. He had been without for so long, he didn't want to waste time on questions he may not want the answers to. He just wanted Thomas with him, on him, in him, and it seemed the other was more than willing to oblige. 

Thomas slammed the door shut behind him, and Newt pressed him against the surface hard, keeping their bodies flush together. They broke the kiss, both gasping for breath as the air around them radiated with lustful heat. "Tommy I-"

A soft finger on his lips stopped him from speaking. "Shhh..." Thomas cooed, stroking fingers through his rough blond locks. "Newt, I'm so sorry. I was stupid, so stupid. I panicked, I got scared of how serious we were becoming... and I fled. I was a coward, but every day away from you tore me up inside. I was so blind, I couldn't see what I really wanted, even though you were in front of me every day. I gave up my soul when I left you, and it hurts me to see you hurt at my own doing."

Newt looked down, suddenly bashful, he was a mess and knew he looked it too. "Tommy... why can't I be angry at you? I mean, I am angry with you, but... I love you too much for that. I was frozen inside without your touch, your love. You're my life Tommy, when you left, I died." Thomas gazed at him, tears had begun to overflow and trickle down his  cheeks. 

"Newt... how can I ever make it up to you?" His voice quivered, and Newt pulled him into an embrace so tight that it hurt, but he kept on hugging. He felt his own tears escape as he kissed away Thomas'' sweet ones. 

"Save me from the nothing I've become."

Thomas received a lot of abuse from his family and friends, but Newt stuck by his side. As for Newt, his writing flowed better than ever, and before long he had not only finished his second book, but had gone through it and improved it, to his editor's delight. He went out, saw friends, met family, and more importantly spend each day and night with Thomas. 

Newt had died, and Thomas had brought him back to life.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soppy or what?


	19. Battleships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battleships by Daughtry for Sorayaoi

The rain was pouring, soaking him through as he knocked on the door relentlessly. He wished he had brought a jacket, but he hadn't thought of the practicalities as he rushed over to his friend's home. He kept on knocking hard, his knuckles raw from the impact, until it was opened by a narked Minho, leering at him through narrowed eyes.

"What did you do this time huh?"

Thomas blinked twice. "Why do you always think its me?" The rain now drenched his t-shirt, his socks were wet inside his trainers, and his jeans felt tight from the dampness. His hair hung low over his eyes, annoying droplets of water dripped off the ends and into his eyes. Minho folded his arms, not in any rush to let him in.

"Cause its never you whose round here on my sofa crying your heart out. Ever."

"I don't make him leave, I never want him to leave. He just does. Look, are you gonna let me in or not?"

"I don't know, I'm still deciding on what's good for Newt right now. Not sure if you're the answer."

Thomas wanted to yell in frustration, but keep it inside. Minho was only protecting his best friend, he understood that, and after the last couple of months he really couldn't blame him. Last night was the sixteenth night in six weeks that Newt had abandoned ship and fled to Minho's. Sixteen arguments that grew too intense fro the blonde to cope, and that wasn't counting the spats that he hadn't ran from.

Their relationship was a battle ground, each always trying to get the upper hand over the other. They fought over the smallest of things, sometimes not even able to remember how it started, because it no linger mattered. All that became important was winning the fight, dirty tactics and all. Truth was, Thomas had had enough, the petty fighting was tearing them apart, and he had spent too many nights now alone in their apartment.

"Look Minho, bring him to the door, I'll stand out here all day if I have too. Just let me talk to him, please."

The Asian looked him up and down, "Shoes off at the door, I'll get you a towel. He's on the sofa, hasn't moved since last night. You want some coffee?"

Thomas stepped through the threshold, peeling off his shoes and leaving them on the mat by the door, keeping them off the cream carpet. "Yeah, thanks." He sneezed, wiping his nose he caught himself in the hall mirror. He looked a mess. Tired eyes from a sleepless night were framed by soaked hanging bangs of dark brown. His cheeks were flushed in contrast to his pale skin, and his t-shirt clung to his skin like cling film. His jeans were unbearably uncomfortable, and he stripped off his socks to free his soaking feet.

The warmth of the house welcomed him like a comforting cuddle, Minho left him in the hallway and he tentatively made his way through to the lounge, still not quite sure what to say. He knew how he felt, how he wanted Newt and no-one else, how his life was pointless without him, but words always had a way of failing him.

He found Newt sat on the sofa, his arms hugging knees he had brought up to his chest. The room was dark and the television was showing an old film in black and white, one Newt was staring at but not paying attention to. Thomas slowly walked in front to block his view, forcing Newt to look at him.

"Why are you here?" Newt's eyes tore into him, still red from the tears he had shed during the night. Thomas thought the blonde looked just as much of a state as he did, just a lot dryer.

"Same reason I always am, for you." 

"Hmph, you usually start with an apology."

"Not this time"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't do anything wrong. Do you even remember why we fought last night?"

"You mocked my art work." Newt was in his final year of college, working on his final piece. He had been working so hard on it, and had been spending so much time trying to make it perfect. It left him frustrated and high strung, and Thomas unwittingly said the wrong thing in his ignorance of the subject. 

"I didn't mock it, I just made a joke, no harm meant. You were so intense, I just wanted to help lighten the mood a bit. I would never mock you maliciously."

"You're always making comments like that."

"And you always take it to heart. I would never be mean to you for the hell of it Newt. But you always shut down,slamming on the defence, biting back with that sharp tongue of yours."

"Nothing you don't deserve."

"So I deserve to be called a waste of space do I? A burden? A pain in the ass?"

"... No."

"You see? This always happens, one of us says the wrong thing, the other reacts badly, and before we know it were at each other's throats."

Newt looked away, fidgeting with his hands as he rocked back and forth on the couch. "Maybe were not right for each other?"

Thomas went down on his knees and closed his hands around Newt's, stilling then. He looked deep into Newt's eyes, both unsure but hopeful. "Don't even say that. Newt, I love you - no matter what. I don't want us to get to the point where we give up on this, and I feel like you're already so close to that point - maybe you are already there. But I'm not ready to give up on us yet. I will swallow my pride, and I will continue to fight - not with you, but for us."

"Tommy... I don't know."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"That's all that matters Newt. I know we've fought a lot, but don't you think were worth fighting for?" 

Thomas got his response with soft lips pushing firmly against his. He rose from his knees to sit beside Newt, opening his mouth to let the blonde in. There, their tongues fought their own battle, not one of insults or snide comments, but of a warm passionate love that despite everything, had not dwindled a notch.

"Wow that was quick." Minho interrupted them, handing Thomas a mug of steaming hot coffee. "I take it I'll have my sofa back then."

Newt laughed as he nuzzled Thomas' neck, "Sofa's all yours Min, you don't want us to act out what I've got planned on it."

Minho and Thomas both shuddered, for different reasons. "Way too much information Newt, go on - leave me in peace so I can get the mental image out of my head."

Thomas didn't need to be told twice, taking Newt's hand he dragged him out of the apartment, taking them both back to their home. There they didn't wait to start a brand new battle, tossing and turning the blankets as their bodies fought against each other, cannons exploding, fireworks igniting as they made sweet love.

 

 

 

 

 


	20. Save Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Save Yourself by My Darkest Days for aMerePeasant

Thomas numbly watched the delicate fingers carefully wrap clean bandages around his hand, shielding wounds that had been lacerated by a wielded broken beer bottle. The cuts were deep and terribly sore, the large amount of alcohol in his body unable to dampen the pain that tingled through him. He sat on the edge of his bed, the first glimpse of sun sending slender slithers of light through blinded windows; pretty, but unwelcome. His eyes were raw from tiredness, his head throbbed from the blows it had suffered, and his pride and dignity were in tatters; a routine it seemed, that he plagued himself with on most Saturday nights. _Not just me,_ he thought sadly as he watched the fingers work. The softness of Newt's skin felt good as he tied of the dressing and gently closed Thomas' hands in the warm nest of his own. 

"Thanks Newt." He mumbled, feeling like a child. He did not know what else to say, not after already apologizing an uncountable amount of times since Newt had dragged his beaten ass out of the bar. In truth his thanks were undoubtedly as obsolete as his apologies, recited tonight as they would be the following weekend, if not before; he just hoped that Newt's kind acceptance would be just as unwavering. 

"Don't mention it." Newt replied, soaking a cotton ball in warm water before dabbing gently as the split bottom lip. Thomas hissed as the wet material touched the broken skin, recoiling his head away. "Hold still." The blond urged, "You should be used to this by now, stop being such a baby."

Thomas frowned but kept still, letting the cotton tend to his sore skin. The truth in Newt's words hurt more, he really should be used to this routine by now. They were young, and being such spent most weekends out with friends, drinking and dancing whilst they watched their single buddies attempt to find a willing partner. Being a couple, Thomas and Newt would laugh watching their friends crash and burn throughout the night. In truth they never needed to join the others on their weekly escapades, they had a home of their own and each other for entertainment. However the weeks were long and hard and Thomas had an insatiable urge for the nightlife, much to Newt's suffering. 

The night's always started out fun, catching up with the gang over beers and shots, letting the stress of the week drift away. But then Newt would never fail to unwittingly catch the eye of some beefed up fellow who liked what he saw and didn't take kindly to rebuttal. Tonight's contestant had been eyeing up the blonde as soon as they entered, Thomas always kept a lookout and spotted his obvious signs of interest immediately. He had sat close to Newt at the bar, an owning hand on the small of his back. Newt had given him a shy smile, knowing exactly what he was doing, as he always did. 

As the night went on alcohol lowered Thomas' tolerance levels, whilst it only increased the leeching admirer's confidence. Newt politely declined the offer of a drink, as well as a dance, explaining he was spending quality time with his boyfriend. The man had sneered at Thomas, wrapping an arm around the blonde's waste, squeezing tight, and began whispering his dirty intentions into his ear. Thomas lost it then, throwing back his stool as he stood up, he delivered a hard punch to the lecher's face in blind fury. Blood sprayed, and a brawl ensued, leading to a bloodied Thomas being forced out of the premises whilst his friends cooled everything off. So it happened tonight, last weekend, and inevitably the weekend to come.

He watched as Newt cleaned up the reddened cotton wool and unused bandages, his eyes showed the same lethargy as he felt and his cheek was tinged red from where a rogue hand had caught him in the commotion. Thomas felt heavy guilt, he always brought trouble into Newt's life, the Brit must go out with him every time full of resigned dread as to what would come. Often he wondered why Newt stuck by him, five years they had been dating, and not once had he ever shown signs of giving up on the perilous relationship.

Even that made Thomas feel bad, Newt deserved so much more than him; an angel to his cursed devil of a life, a remedy to his sickness, but to what cost to the blonde? Thomas felt the need to free Newt from his heavy chains, cast him away toward a better life, one that he deserved. But he couldn't, not only could he not bear the thought of not being without Newt, he knew the kind man would never give up on him, regardless of his many flaws. 

Thomas knew Newt deserved much more than what he had given him. He was an aggressive drunk who couldn't stop, a compulsive liar, and a cheat. A couple of his drunken stupors which his boyfriend had not attended had resulted in him waking up in a stranger's bed, with no memory of how he got there, with only the rank stench of ignorant sex left hanging in the air. He had spilt the truth to Newt immediately on each occasion, begging forgiveness, only for it to be given to him straight away. Newt always said he was disappointed, but appreciated his rare honesty in the matter. Thomas never felt so worthless, and vowed to never commit such an act again. 

It was because Newt was so forgiving, so loving, so perfect, that Thomas became so paranoid when they were out. His partner was gorgeous, and Thomas was terrified he would find someone who would make him realize just how much better his life could be with someone else, someone who could give him what he was due. Newt made his life complete, and he couldn't give him up for fear of being lost and helpless on his own. Newt was his savior, his medicine, but also his sickness at the same time, a drug he could not detach himself from, one more intense and consuming than alcohol or any other he had taken in his youth, one he could not live without. 

"I think we should maybe stay in next time." Newt's voice carried through from the bathroom, when Thomas didn't answer he returned to sit beside him, the mattress dipping slightly from his weight, nudging their bodies together. "Where I only get fondled by you, and the only marks on your skin are left by me." He kissed Thomas softly on the temple, where a small bruise was still forming, nothing more than a smudge of light yellow. Thomas brought an arm around his carer, hugging him close in seek of comfort. 

"Newt, why do you put up with me?" He had wanted to ask for so long, not daring to in fear for what the answer could be. Out of pity? Out of duty? Sitting there, patched up, alcohol drying up inside of him, he let the question escape his lips without thinking. "I'm a mess, I drink, I fight, I've cheated on you, and yet you tend to my wounds and kiss my worries away each time.  You could save yourself, why do you stick with me?"

Newt brought his hands up, holding Thomas' head to look him in the eye. His own pupils were dark and sincere, a seriousness that captured Thomas' attention in its entirety. 

"You really want to know?" Thomas nodded, his cheeks burning under the hands that held them. Newt just smiled sweetly.

"Because I love you."

 

 


	21. Stripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stripped by Shiny Toy Guns for Raven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this Raven! Thank you for your support :)
> 
> Not sure if there's enough of the song in this for you, but this was the only idea that came to me, and I couldn't get rid of it, so I ran with it instead.

Newt, Second in Command.

Newt, The Field Hand.

Newt, Ex-Runner.

The Glue, the shoulder, the support beam, the adviser, the confidant, the friend. To the gladers Newt was all of these things, and for Thomas it was no exception. Were it not for the accented blonde, he would have lost his mind in his initial weeks since he had come up from the box. But for Thomas, Newt was more than all those things put together, so much more. 

He had been taken under the wing of the co-leader like all the other boys seemed to have done. They all had a limitless amount of respect for Newt, even Alby and Gally. When Newt spoke, people listened, when Newt ordered, they followed, never requiring him to raise his voice. During their time together, he had grown to like Newt, really like him. He was quiet but forceful, calm, caring and funny - in his own dry way. His eyes were deep, his accent was charming and his smile was ready and warm. Many times Thomas found himself lost in those eyes as they gaze at him whilst listening to whatever he was rambling on about. No wonder everyone went to Newt with their problems, who wouldn't

Sadly, the magnitude of such responsibility weighed heavily on Newt. So many roles to play, Thomas found it harder and harder to find himself talking to the real Newt. He didn't want the leader, or the adviser, or the planner. He wanted his friend, the person who drank moonshine with him by the bonfire and laughed at his stupid jokes. He wanted the person he fell for. 

Thomas contemplated all this as he sadly swung in his hammock, listening to Chuck's not so quiet snores. The glade was quiet and dark, daytime only just beginning to make its presence known, the blackness of the sky lightening to a dark indigo. the majority of the boys fast asleep. but he could not join in with the peaceful activity. Off in the distance  he could see light coming from The Homestead. He knew it would be Newt, he was often the earliest one up, and Thomas saw it as the perfect time to execute his plan.

He stealthily left his hammock and winded his way through the mass of sleeping teenagers. The early morning night just enough for him to make his way through the maze of sleeping bodies without stepping on any limbs. Once free, he jogged quietly the rest of the way, Newt's time was precious, he had to act quickly. 

The building was mostly quiet, only the same sounds of sleeping coming from upstairs. On his right was a small doorway left ajar, the light came from there, as did soft noises of movement. He took a deep breath before tapping on the door gently, immediately gaining the attention of who was inside.

"Who the bloody hell is it?" Newt whispered in his giveaway dialect. Thomas gently pushed the door open, closing it behind him as he entered the small room. Newt's look of annoyance turned into confusion. "Tommy? What are you doing here at this time?" 

A half spent candle was the only source of light, but it was enough. Half of Newt's face was hidden in shade, the other lit up in the flickering light, glinting in his warm eyes. His hair was messy, and Thomas fought the urge to run his hand through the tussled strands. Instead he cleared his throat. "Newt, I want you to come with me for a bit."

"Sorry?" Newt looked at him, completely baffled. "Tommy what ever the problem is you can tell me here, no-one is listening. Now what's the matter?"

Thomas grunted in frustration, "That's the problem. You automatically thinking that there is a problem, and that you have to listen to it and deal with it and look after everyone all the time."

The blonde cocked an eyebrow, putting down the book he had been reading by candlelight. "You've lost me."

"I just want to spend some time with you Newt. Just you, being you, nothing else. No-one else. Just us."

Thomas saw Newt's brow furrow just before the candle died out, plummeting them into darkness. "Shuck sake." Newt muttered. "You got a match?"

"Nope, and you don't need one. Meet me outside The Deadheads in ten minutes. I'll be waiting."

He left without giving Newt a chance to argue. He smiled at himself, only he could get away with speaking to Newt like that. Not publicly of course, but in private Newt treated him differently. He would laugh, and joke, and fool around, something Thomas had never seen him do with anyone else. He just hoped that it meant something, that there was something between them worth delving a little deeper to. It just requires a little time away from The Glade, and Thomas couldn't think of anywhere better than the forest in the corner of their little world.

He waited fifteen minutes sat by the largest tree at the perimeter of the forest. The sky was getting light enough to be called blue, and he was worrying Newt had decided not to come. If he didn't come now then hat would be it, his day would be taken up by his many roles, and Thomas would have to content himself hoeing soil whilst listening to Zart drone on about everything and nothing. He was just about to give up and head back when he saw the single figure walking from The Homestead to where he was sat. 

Newt still had an inquisitive look on his face as he approached. Thomas waited for him to get quite close before retreating into the forest a little bit, hiding himself behind a few more trees. He heard Newt growl in exasperation and couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. He loved winding the blonde up. He waited in a little clearing a two minute walk from the edge, there he waited for Newt to find him.

"Tommy what is this about?" He looked slightly put out as he finally reached the clearing, standing with his hands on his hips. 

"Nothing Newt. I just wanted to see you."

"Are you feeling ill Thomas? You see me all the time, we kinda live in the same area in case you hadn't noticed."

Thomas shook his head. "No, I see our Second In Command all the time. I rarely see Newt. Come on, strip away all your responsibility, and just be you, with me." He sat down against a large tree and patted the earthy ground as an invitation.

Newt let a small smile grace his handsome face. "You're soft you know that?" He sat down next to him regardless. Thomas leaned in instinctively, letting their bare shoulders touch, their legs resting next to each other. 

"Maybe, but you know I'm right. So how have you been Newt? I bet no-one asks you that much do they?"

"Its my job to make sure everyone's okay, this place is harsh, we have to look out for one another."

Thomas felt brave then, he slung an arm around the blonde, pulling him in a little closer. He felt relieved when he didn't pull away, instead letting his head rest into Thomas. 

"That's great, but who looks out for you?"

Newt shook his head gently, "Everyone does."

"Everyone looks out for you the same way you look out for everyone else do they? Come on Newt, this is me you're talking to, stop being diplomatic."

"Big word Tommy, you been reading books with words in?"

He chuckled, "Aren't you proud? Seriously though, let me take care of you Newt. Let me in."

Newt lifted his head, so close to his Thomas could feel the heat radiating from him. The morning light shone in his eyes making them as bright and beautiful as the rest of him. He swallowed the lump in the throat when Newt spoke.

"Why Tommy? Why do you care so much?"

It was do or die. Thomas took the teen's face in his hands and brought their lips together in a chaste kiss. Newt froze for a second before melting into him, and Thomas' heart nearly exploded out of his chest as they slowly explored each other's mouths. They exited the kiss breathless, both in shock and delight. Thomas kept Newt still in his hands, in case he freaked out and ran, but he didn't. He only gazed back, his eyes flicking between his eyes and his lips made Thomas smile.

"Because I do care Newt. I care about you more than I have ever cared about anyone else. Not the Newt I see out in the glade, but the Newt I see now, the one you try so hard to hide."

A tear rolled down Newt's cheek, and he gently kissed it away before capturing the soft lips once again. This time it was more heated, filled with a passion they had both been afraid to show in the first kiss. When they broke part Newt was sat in his lap, their foreheads touching, both sporting goofy grins. 

"I knew there was something special about you Tommy, I just didn't know what until now."

Thomas noticed the blueness of the sky, morning was upon them, and the rest of the gladers would be up and about before long. He didn't want to break apart from Newt, but he was happy knowing that the blonde was his. Stripped bare from all his roles and his strong front, Newt was more beautiful than he could ever imagine. 

"You are what's special about me. I want us to do this whenever we can, but for now we should probably head back out."

Newt actually looked appalled at the idea. "Do we have to?" 

Thomas smirked, "Well you're the boss, I'll leave it up to you."

Later, when Thomas lay snuggled with Newt in the blonde's bed at The Homestead, he was glad he had left it up to the Second In Command to decide. 

 


	22. Give Me Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran for Merlinear

Thomas winced as the hot alcohol ran down his throat, a warming influence of pain that drowned what ached his heart; even if only for a few seconds. The early hours of the morning left the room dark and cold. The muted small television the only light source, flickering ghostly shadows on dampened, plastered walls. He stared sadly at the near empty bottle, woefully contemplating how he felt more empty inside than the glass vessel.

He finished the vodka off before collapsing onto his unmade bed, a bare mattress on a simple fame. He let his body sink into the uneven support. For a moment he felt weightless, light as a feather, until his heavy heart weighted him back down. Then he felt hopeless, trapped, and lost. It was a simple photo, in a simple silver frame, of a simpler time. Thomas plucked it from his bedside counter blindly, his practiced hand knowing exactly where it sat.

The two men smiled back at him with glittering eyes and wide mouths. Memories of that day came with bittersweet fondness, a time he had blissfully experienced, a time he had regrettably left behind. He stroked a thumb slowly across the smooth surface, caressing the happy face of the handsome blonde who was hugging his boyfriend as tightly as he could as a fireplace smoldered behind them. He had taken Newt skiing in the Alps, but they had spent most of their holiday snuggled up in their log cabin, in front of that fire, sipping hot cocoa as they shared a blanket together.

He blinked away the tears, letting them fall onto his pillow, leaving dark marks in their wake as they melted into the linen. His heart ached as it yearned for the man he so loved again, to be able to hold him in his arms, to share a blanket once more. They had been the perfect couple, or so their friends had kept telling them, and it came as a sudden and deadly blow when Newt broke it off. 

_"I think we should see different people Tommy."_

The words had burned themselves into his memory. The words that had cut them apart, and ended what had been to him so magical. There had been no warning, no chance for him to prevent it. One day Newt just had enough.

_"I'm not ready for this yet. It scares me."_

Thomas knew it was his fault. He had been too clingy, too needy. He got so wrapped up in the wonder that was Newt, he had smothered him like a kid with a new puppy at Christmas. He was committed to the blonde, often speaking of the future they were going to have together. A farm cottage, a modest wedding, three kids, two dogs. He had it all set out in his dreams, and to his blessed ignorance, he had terrified Newt away, leaving him alone, and his dreams of the future remained just what they were; dreams.

They remained friends, for the sake of their circle of comrades as well as each other. Their group was so close-knit, they did not want to cause any drama between any of them, and so chose to keep the peace for everyone's sake. It should have eased the pain, knowing Newt did not want him completely out of his life, but instead it hurt the most. Newt still laughed when he told the group one of his stupid jokes with the same joyful laugh. He still clapped him on the shoulder as a greeting, the touch burning his skin each and every time. They still hung out together, watched movies together, studied together, but never alone. All those time Thomas just wanted to reach out and hold him, kiss him, take things back to the way they were. 

Whether Newt dated other people he could not say. He never brought it up, and none of the others seemed to know anything when Thomas had asked them. It was a sad realization that he knew very little of his ex-boyfriend any more. They did not often speak directly when in a group, and never in private; always opting for awkward silence instead. He had lost a best friend and a lover, and had gained a ghostly acquaintance in its place, and it was tearing him apart.

Six long months had drifted past, and he had slowly sank into depression. He hardly left his dorm, he missed lectures and gatherings, and ignored many texts and calls from his friends. Sleep eluded him, hunger did not bother him, and alcohol comforted him during the lonely nights. Heavy bags hung under reddened eyes, untamed shaggy hair ticked his nape, and unkempt stubble jutted across his jaw line. He put on a good face when he had to, not wanting to concern his friends, but he found himself caring less and less about himself, let alone what anyone else thought. There was only one person he sill thought about, the man who dismissed him so long ago. 

Newt was on his mind always, from the moment the sun rose, to well past the twilight hour, each and every day. All this time and he loved the blonde more so than he did before. Not as someone to latch on to, to marry and adopt kids with. But someone to hold, and to kiss, and to love. He needed the love Newt had once unconditionally given him, the sweet taste that no liquor could replace, the warm touch that a cold empty bed had no chance of recreating. 

He ran a hand through his thick matted hair as he sat back up, letting his legs swing over the edge of the bed. He kissed his fingers before touching Newt's framed face again, and gently placed the photo back in its rightful place. Perhaps it was the alcohol that had replaced his blood that made him pick up the phone from its stand next to the frame. His fingers automatically dialed Newt's number from memory. He didn't know what he was going to say, only that he would fight his corner, for a chance - any chance of saving what had been so rightfully theirs.

When the call toned out, and the answering machine began, he ended the call and tried again. He stared into nothingness as he listened to the unanswered ringing drone again and again, fighting off the doubt that had started to creep into him, chipping away at his drunken bravery. He wanted to tell Newt how sorry he was, how sad he was, how much he missed him and wanted to be with him again. He wanted to tell him how angry he had felt, how jealous he had been, and the immeasurable amount of how much he needed the blonde in his life. After the seventh call, the phone was picked up, and Thomas found himself stunned into silence.

"Hello?" The tired voice mumbled from the other end. It was nearing three in the morning, and Thomas felt guilty for calling at such a time, but to him there was no other time. Waiting any more would have allowed the alcohol to seep away, taking his strength and dumb bravery with it. 

"Hey." He said almost casually, at a complete loss of words. There was a heavy pause down the line..

"Tommy?" Newt asked quietly, hesitantly. A lump formed in  his throat at the sound of his pet name, the one Newt had called him from day one, a name that only he could use, one reserved just for him. 

"Yeah, its me. Hi Newt."

"Do you have any bloody idea what time it is?" It wasn't anger, but disbelief. Thomas could imagine the blonde being even more shocked than he was right now at what he was doing.

"Yeah, sorry. I just... I had to call you."

"Why?"

"Why? Because I miss you Newt. Because I need you, needed to hear your voice, to talk to you. Anything..." He drifted off as his voice failed him. All he wanted to do was sob. Newt's voice was husky and laced with such an accent that drove him wild. Thomas had always sworn Newt added a touch more of seductiveness to his voice just for him, and he still heard it now, still just for him. 

"Tommy... I'm... I'm sorr-"

"Please just give us another chance." Thomas pleaded, interrupting his ex-lover whom he missed so much. "I know I scared you, heck I scare myself thinking back. But you and me, we worked didn't we? Newt I love you, I always will, and it hurts so much that you're not here with me right now. I need you."

He heard the shudder in the breath through the silence on the other side. If felt like an eternity as he waited there in the darkness, his head thrummed as the vodka buried it in warm liquid, and the ticking sound of his clock seemed to boom loudly through the room. 

"I'm sorry." Was all Newt said before the tone went dead. That was it, the battle for love was over. Not with a bang, or a blast, but a whimper.

Thomas cried, curled up in a ball as he hugged his cold pillow close against him, burying his sodden face into its soft body. He cried until his eyes bled dry, with nothing more to offer, his body simply shook from his silent sobbing. He lay for what felt like hours, the night slowly dragging on forever. He thought that perhaps this would be how it was now, the sun would never rise again for him, he would forever lay in the darkness that dwelt in his heart. He wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep, but when the knocking sound stirred his head from his arms his clock glaringly told him it was nearly four hours past midnight. He blinked heavily, his eyes were sore and his skin felt tight where tears had dried. The knocking sound came again, and he realised it was his door. 

He knew who it must be, yet he could not allow himself to get his hopes up, not until he opened the door to a meek looking Newt waiting on the other side. Thomas gaped, taking in the man who had graced his doorway at such an ungodly hour after being rudely awoken by his drunken call. Only Newt would do that. The blonde looked tired, his eyes too sported bags, and his face looked drawn. Still, Thomas found himself staring at each wonderful feature, soaking up as much as he could whilst Newt stood there in the flesh. 

"Newt..." He whispered, choking slightly. 

"Tommy..." Newt's eyes shone and before Thomas could blink the blonde nearly knocked him over as he embraced him. Newt smell good, the same smell that he used to have, the smell that Thomas could only label as 'home.' 

"Newt..." He said again in awe. He found it hard to believe, and had to pinch is arm as he held the man close to him, burying his head in golden hair. Being so close to him again, it was too good to be true, and he was relieved when he did not wake up to an empty room. 

"I'm sorry Tommy." Newt mumbled against his neck, sending wonderful sensations through him as soft lips brushed his skin as they spoke, breath hot against flesh. 

Thomas didn't say a word. He simply guided the blonde into his bed and cuddled around him as he used to do, their bodies fitting against each other's in perfect unison. Newt relaxed into him and fell asleep quickly, his gentle breathing guiding Thomas into pleasant darkness as his eyes grew heavy. Newt was warm against him, his bed no longer cold, his heart no longer heavy. Tomorrow he would ask questions, tonight he would revel in Newt's love, the love that he so desperately needed. For the first time in months, Thomas fell asleep smiling. 

 

 


	23. Angel With A Shot Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel With A Shot Gun by The Cab for Lison

"Tommy please, don't just stand there, do it!"

The gun felt cold in his hand, a dark pistol with the power to end a life. The weapon Newt was begging him to kill him with, to end his suffering, to extinguish his beautiful life. He pointed the nozzle at the blonde, his hand shook as his finger twitched against the trigger. They stood apart, when all he wanted to do was hold Newt close to him, and kiss all of the hurt away. He wanted to do what Newt wanted, he understood, but he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger.

"No Newt. You're coming with me, away from these cranks."

He grabbed Newt's hand, only to have it ripped away as the man recoiled back violently. Surrounding cranks looked up from their cannibalistic activities to stare at the sudden altercation. As far as they were concerned, Newt was one of them, and Thomas wasn't.

"Newt I will stay here and fight these guys until they tear me apart, unless you come with me now." He held out a quivering hand, Newt stared at if it was the first time he had seen it in his life. Fear and wonder mixed in his brown eyes with disbelief.

"Tommy... I-"

A beastly snarl caught both of their attention as a beaten up man came running towards them. His chin was gone, leaving a mushed bloody stump where it used to be. Thomas didn't hesitate this time. Aiming the gun, he shot the man in the neck. The crazed man fell to the ground, making jerky movements as blood speed from his wound, until three of his friends fell on him, scavenging on his fallen body.

Thomas grabbed Newt's hand. "With me, please Newt!" His friend stared at him before shaking his head, his eyes clarifying as he did so. He nodded, and together they ran back towards the car Thomas had vacated upon seeing the blonde in the centre of the chaos that now surrounded them. It wasn't long before they could hear the growl and rapid footsteps behind them. He chanced a glance back, and saw a dozen cranks charging after them, each looking more insane than the last.

"Stop!" The man who drove the car had gotten out and armed himself with a shotgun, Thomas' heart sunk when he saw it was aimed at Newt. "He's a crank Thomas! He can't come with us!" He took a shot, a chunk of tarmac flew up from under Newt's feet. Thomas saw red. Whether a lucky shot, or some hidden skill he had learned during the trials, he shot the suited man square between the eyes. By the time they reached the car he had hit the ground, blood slowly pumping from the hole in the centre of the head.

"Jesus Christ Tommy... you killed him."

Thomas holstered the pistol in his jeans and picked up the dead man's shotgun. It felt heavy in his hands, solid. His vision was blurred around the edges from adrenaline, blocking out the corpse of the man he had just killed. The uninfected sane man he had just killed. He checked to find only the one shot had been taken, leaving with him some ammunition at least.

"I know, but he was going to kill you. Anyone who wants to do that, has to come through me first." His fingers fumbled as he cocked the gun. "Now get in the car."

Newt obeyed without question, running round to the passenger side before getting in. The group of cranks were closing in on them fast, and Thomas could see more still running towards them from a distance. He took aim, and fired three shots, one took a man's legs from underneath him, another blew a woman backwards; her stomach exploding from the impact. The third found a young girl, Thomas clenched his eyes shut once he saw where he had aimed, but he pulled the trigger anyway. All he heard was a hi-pitched shriek before he jumped behind the wheel of the car.

He looked out the window. The first group had given up chasing them, instead making the most of the bodies that Thomas had shot down for them. A hand gripped his wrist and he turn round ready to fight, only to see Newt staring at him in awe.

"Tommy, what are you hoping to do? You can't save me."

He hadn't realised until then, but he had been crying the whole time, ever since Newt had begged him to kill him. He held the blonde close to him, kissing him deeply, tasting blood and metal, warmth and love from the chapped and crusted lips. Newt gave him what he needed, giving in to the kiss as he did back in The Glade. Back then they thought they had it rough, but Thomas would give anything to go back there again.

"I don't care Newt." He whispered as they pulled apart. "I'm gonna fight for us, until its done. I can't leave you behind, you're everything I have." He ran a trembling hand through matted and torn yellow locks. "Without you living would just be surviving. I'd rather die living, then live by just surviving."

Newt was crying, but he was smiling, a true smile, one that reached his eyes. Thomas' heart melted, and he kissed the boy again, savouring the taste and the heat whilst he had the chance. A bang on the window tore them apart. Newt found the central locking just in time, as a burly man began smacking his fist against the blonde's window.

"Time to go." Thomas declared, putting his foot down on the accelerator he tore the car through the streets. Mobs ran towards the vehicle from the side, but Thomas drove too fast for them to attach themselves to the car. Those who did reach them got knocked away from the side, or run over at the front. He kept the shotgun by his feet, ready for the worst.

"Tommy." Newt spoke up after a while. The roads had become deserted, and Thomas stopped the car, turning off the headlights. The sun had gone down, leaving the world dark and scary, with countless spooked noises screeching in the blackness. "Before I change, I just want you to know that I love you. No matter what happens, what I say, or try to do, know that I love you."

Thomas pulled Newt into his lap, cuddling him tightly. "I love you too Newt. I'm sorry things had to turn out this way." Back in The Glade they had cuddled like this whenever they could. Stealing away to the deadheads where no-one else could see, they would spend whole nights sometimes resting in each other's arms.

"You can still save yourself." Newt sniffed sadly. "Paradise waits for you."

"My paradise is right here." He placed countless kisses on Newt's face, receiving his eager lips when them collided with his again. "And I am not leaving it."

Exhaustion got the better of them both, and they soon drifted off together, until a loud thump landed on top of the car, shaking the whole vehicle. Someone was on top of them.  
Newt immediately moved back into his seat, and Thomas drove. They heard the body roll off the car, and Thomas looked into the rear view mirror to see a large man's body tumble violently into the distance.

"Look out! Spikes!" Newt yelled, clawing a hand into his shoulder.

Thomas looked, but saw too late. By the time he stopped the car, he had driven over the small spikes that had been lain out on the road. Their tyres were slashed, and he lost control of the car. It was all he could do to safely drive it as it slowed down to a stop. Wild noises filled the air, a weird chant of animal cheers roared around them. Thomas punched the steering wheel, angry at himself. It was a trap, a trap set by lunatics, and he had fallen for it.

Dark figures began to emerge from in front of them as well as behind. Looking around, he spied an alley way to their right. He grabbed the shotgun and got out the car, beckoning for Newt to follow him. For a moment he was afraid Newt had given up, that he wouldn't follow. But he did, and quickly, and soon they were both running down the dark alley.

"Its over." Newt said sadly. The alley way was a dead end, a twelve-foot solid wall of brick and mortar surrounded by two building that were even taller. No ledges, no platforms, nothing to help them get safely to the other side. Thomas growled and cocked his gun when he heard shuffling movements behind them. A mob stood behind them, with no weapons to be seen, just snapping jaws, and overgrown nails, and far gone eyes. 

He searched the environment for anything that could help them. His eyes lit up when he saw the dark red and rusted canisters perched up against one wall, hidden in the shadows. He couldn't take all of them, but he would take as many as he could, ease as much pain and suffering as he could whilst fighting for the one that he loved. 

"Newt over here." He whispered hurriedly, making his way over to the barrels. 

Newt stared at them for a few moments, his brow furrowed in thought. "Flammable liquid?." 

Thomas lifted his arm that carried the shotgun. "I've got the spark." He hoisted a canister onto its side, it was round and would roll easily enough. "You push, I'll shoot, they'll burn." His heart clenched as he saw Newt try to process the plan. The once sharp and witty second in command was now struggling to put two and two together, but he wouldn't give up, and Thomas was proud of the teenager's spirit. 

"Okay" He agreed at last. Thomas was glad the mob was slow and stupid, seemingly content on snarling at them as they slowly encroached. "What if I miss?" Newt worried.

"You won't." Thomas patted him on the back and kissed him on the cheek, wiping away the dirt with his thumb. "Come on, lets do this."

He knew the alley way was the last for them. He knew the fight would finish here. But he would not give up whilst he had breath in his lungs, and Newt by his side. What would be waiting for him on the other side he did not know, nor did he care. He just wanted to be with his friend, with the person he loved most in the world, together until the end.

On his word, Newt rolled a canister of the flammable liquid towards the crowd, letting go so the motion could take it to its destination. His aim was spot on, landing right in the middle of the group. The surrounding cranks investigated the foreign object with interest, and Thomas waited until the right moment before pulling the trigger. The centre of the front line exploded into flames and screams of anguish. They ran into each other, setting each other alight as the trail of fire blazed through them, going further and further along the train of crazed beings. 

Thomas didn't have to say a word, Newt was there, rolling another - this time aiming for the left side. Thomas made it explode again, and did the same when Newt targeted the right side. Soon there was a wall of searing flame, bodies burning as they crisped black, the flesh melting away. The heat lit up Newt' face, the blaze reflecting in his deep brown eyes, and Thomas found himself staring at the beautiful calmness that was there. When Newt turned to look at him, he smiled. "How many bullets?"

Thomas handed Newt the pistol. "Not many, if we make good shots, we'll get a dozen or so."

A burning crank ran suddenly ran out of the fire towards then, flailing arms windmilling in the air, its screams deafening as it sprinted towards them snarling. Newt must have learned the same way he had, as he lifted his arm and pulled the pistol's trigger, the body fell to the ground under a spray of blood. 

"Thank you Tommy." Newt said. "Thank you for being with me until the end."

They shared one last kiss, Thomas thought it was their deepest, most passionate exchange, and he melted into Newt's body. When they broke apart, they rained bullets upon any flaming bodies that came their way. Soon the bangs became clicks, as both guns ran empty. Newt let his arm hand limply at his side, Thomas held the shotgun as a club, ready for combat. He knew he was young, but he was ready to die. With a shotgun in his hands, and his angel by his side. 

 


	24. Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warrior by Beth Crowley for Maggie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, been bogged down with the flu, but I'm finally getting better so hope to get some more chapters up.

The paper note felt light in his hand, so much the opposite of how it hit his heart. Newt's final request was written with a steady hand, elegant and honest, just like their creator. Thomas sat on the hard surface of the Berg's floor, his knees brought up to his chest as he gazed at the blonde's words. The paper was marked with dried teardrops, so much so that parts had began to appear translucent. He couldn't say what hurt the most, the face that he would never see Newt again, the anger in which the Brit had sent him away, or the fact that he was no longer sure it was Newt he had said his sad farewell too. The Flare had taken such a rapid grip on the man, eroding away who he was bit by bit; Thomas couldn't be sure there was anything of his Newt left.

"We shouldn't have left him there." Minho muttered as he skulked by. Thomas didn't bother to reply, Minho had hardly uttered a word to him since leaving Newt in the Crank Palace, only speaking to him to remind him of his bitter regret over the situation. He blamed Thomas, and that was okay, Thomas blamed himself too. He wanted to take the blonde with them, more than anything, but the strange and unnatural hatred that burned out of Newt's eyes had stopped him. Newt, if he was still him, did not want him anymore.

He thought back to where, for them, it had all began. Before the Cranks, and the scorched earth, the Munies, and Wicked. He followed his memory back to The Glade, a once hostile and sparse environment that now seemed like paradise. Life had been more simple then, peaceful despite the threat from the grievers, and comfortable in its own weird way. He had freaked out on his first day, too overwhelmed by all the strange eyes around him, and far too curious for his own good. He had tried to run away, he had kept away from the other Gladers, and he had cried himself to sleep. His first few days there had been tough, and if it wasn't for one Glader in particular, he didn't think he would have live through that maze, let alone what had followed.

Newt had fascinated him, the second-in-command was respected and revered, but he was also sweet and kind, especially to Thomas. The blonde had shown him the ropes, taken him under his wing in the gardens, and stood up for him when others tried to talk him down. They'd share evenings together by the bonfire, make jokes as they toiled the land, and always ate together morning, noon and night. It was a natural relationship, and it soon helped Thomas settle into a routine. Even after he became a runner, Newt would be waiting for him at the same spot every day, and would send him off the following morning. It was a stability that Thomas had needed to see him through each day.

Thomas had always been a curious creature, and Newt fed that side of him each and every day. There was something beautifully secretive about him, the way he brushed off any mention of how he got his limp, or how his brow would furrow as he drifted off into his own world; deep in thought. Thomas took tentative steps to deepen their relationship, wanting more, but also afraid of what he might find. It wasn't long until he let his built up feelings show, to his relief Newt reciprocated those feelings, and they became The Glade's first real couple.

As they grew together, Newt confided in him his deepest fears, and darkest times. The despair the blonde had felt when he flung himself from the wall, the loss he felt from his fallen comrades, and the unknown life he had left behind. The need to escape the maze, and the daunting prospect that they never would. The revelations had shocked and saddened Thomas, the man who led with such strength, and gave so much support to his flailing comrades, had his own hidden battles he was fighting. Knowing this spurred Thomas to try even harder. He ran longer, faster, more so than he thought he was capable of. He survived a night in the maze when all hope should have been lost, killed a griever, found the way out, and led an army of gladers into battle for their escape.

Through all of it, Newt had been there, to hold his hand, urging him on. When Thomas had arrived in the glade he had been weak, a mess. Newt awakened the warrior that lived inside of him, hidden away where even he did not know. Maybe that was it, Newt had seen what he was capable of, when he had been blind and lost. If it wasn't for the blonde, he would not have found the way out of the maze, he would not have survived the trials, and he would not be where he was now. 

The tremor of the Berg landing jolted him from his musings. Brenda must have found a spot they could lay low and rest, away from any unwanted attention. Thomas shook his head before finally standing up right. He stretched his back out, waiting for the satisfying click before making his way to the cockpit where he found Brenda and Minho sat at their stations. Brenda saw him first, giving him a small smile. 

"Hey." She said quietly. "We should be safe here for a while, get some rest, you look exhausted."

Exhausted of grief, yes, and tired of giving up. No more. He crushed the paper note in his hand tight, eradicating the plea for place of a better one. He no longer cared who he would find, but he would get Newt back, whatever it took. It wouldn't be easy, and there would be plenty of danger, but he would take Newt for his own, whether he liked it or not. 

"No time for rest Brenda, were going back."

Confusion spread over her face, but the knowing smile on Minho's face encouraged him to continue.

"Back?" Brenda questioned. "Back where exactly?"

"To get Newt." He said authoritatively, his leader qualities flooding back. "Were going to arm ourselves, crash into that hell place they call a palace, and get Newt out."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You make it sound so simple. Do I need to remind you that there's an army of crazies in there? And I hate to say it, but Newt is probably part of that army by now."

He scowled at her, "I don't care. He's coming with us."

Brenda opened her mouth to argue back, but the sound of a gun being holstered tore her attention away. Minho stood there with a pile of guns at his feet, his hands gripped firmly around his own chosen weapon. Just then, Thomas thought he looked born ready for battle, and he knew he would always have Minho by his side when it really counted.

"Bout time you came round Thomas. Welcome back." He quipped. "Thought I was gonna have to beat some sense into you. Brenda, do as Thomas says, were going back."

The girl threw her arms up in frustration. "Fine, fine. One way to die is as good as any other, just wish you'd make up your mind."

Thomas gave Minho a smile of deep appreciation. "Thanks Minho." He buckled himself into a seat before telling Brenda to go as fast as she could. They were going to get Newt. They were going to bring him home. 

 


	25. Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealous by Nick Jonas for 50shadsof_fandoms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't read through this myself properly, so sorry for any mistakes, will go through and edit it tomorrow, just wanted to get this up today. Hope you enjoy it :)

Thomas mentally groaned as he ended the call with his best friend. On the weekend, Minho would turn twenty one, and would be celebrating it in the way of a glorious house party at his vast and wealthy residence. Gently setting the phone back in its holder, he plodded through the apartment he shared with his long-term boyfriend, seeking out his high-school crush whom he had the pleasure to call his for the past three years. 

"Newt?" He called out curiously. The blonde had disappeared once he commenced his conversation with his excitable friend, and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since. The answer came to him as he approached their bedroom, the sound of hot running water from the en-suite bathroom locating Newt in the shower. After a second of musing he decided to let his boyfriend shower, instead he retreated back into the kitchen, where he begrudgingly circled the date of Minho's celebration on the magnetic calendar that hung from their fridge. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to commemorate Minho's birthday, Thomas just wasn't a person for mass socializing, and an alcohol fueled house party was at the extreme end of the social calendar. It wasn't that he was shy or anxious, he just liked the company that he chose to keep, his small social circle was more than enough, and with Newt always by his side he saw no reason to go seeking new friendships. 

Minho on the other hand, was a social animal, and would no doubt have invited the entire population of their old school year, plus his university friends to his house party. Thomas was glad he wouldn't have to help clean up afterwards, no matter how much Minho would undoubtedly beg him, he would not be staying long enough to get trapped into sleeping over for the morning-after panicked tidy up session before the parents got back home. 

He drove his thoughts away, busying himself with making tea. They were the wrong side of Halloween, and the coldness in the evenings were becoming more and more evident; Newt always liked a hot drink after escaping the warm cocoons that were his showers. The kettle came to the boil as Newt padded in bare footed and bare chested, a white cotton towel draped loosely round his waist. 

"Did you call me Tommy?" He asked in a gentle, accented voice. His damp blonde mop of hair hung low round his ears, single drops of water fell from the tips, dropping onto his chest before trickling their way down his slender body. Thomas gulped as he swallowed thickly, the beauty of his boyfriend never failed to effect him, even after three years of love and lust. He simply nodded as Newt walked over to retrieve his tea, smiling appreciatively as he blew the steam from the top of the mug, the brown liquid simmering in the reflection of his eyes. 

"Minho's holding a big party to celebrate his birthday this Saturday, and were invited."

Newt sipped at the hot liquid, humming to himself, enjoying the lingering warmth of the shower as he drank the tea. "Cool," He said after a gulp, " What time? I take it the others are going." 

"House is open from Saturday morning, but the party starts officially at nine, and I am not partaking in setting up or dismantling Minho's indulgent frivolities. We'll aim for nine at the earliest, and be out of there by midnight."

The blonde looked at him adoringly. He knew how much Thomas disliked such activities, though Thomas himself doubted that Newt knew the real cause. True, he found making chit chat with strangers and people he really didn't give two hoots about tedious, and watching fools drink until they fell over their own asses did nothing to entertain him. But it was another matter altogether that caused his discomfort; Newt.

"Nine it is." Newt acquiesced. "Can't wait to catch up with everyone, knowing Minho he's got the whole town and their distant relatives coming. Whose gonna drive? Or shall we get a taxi?"

Thomas shook his head. "I'll drive." If he drove there, he could drive back, whenever he wanted to without having to worry about ordering and waiting for a cab before being able to leave. 

Newt pouted his bottom lip, "You mean I'll be drinking alone? Where's the fun in that?" He stared at Thomas with wide eyes, using the most adorable face he could muster. Thomas had to look away before it could take hold of him. 

"I'm not forcing you to drink you know, besides, Ben and Gally will be good company in that respect, and then there's Minho of course. Teresa will be there too no doubt, she'll drink you under the table no problem."

The blonde looked downwards momentarily as a brief sign of disgruntlement flashed across his brow. "Yeah, guess so. I'm gonna get into bed, you coming?" 

Thomas pulled Newt towards him, holding him still at the hips as he kissed him softly, the blonde's supple skin softer than the linen that loosely covered him. "I wanna get a bit more of this essay done, and I'll be there." Newt caught his bottom lip, nibbling gently before kissing the corner of his mouth. The taste of tea danced across his skin as soft lips massaged his own before the blonde released him.

"Don't be long." He purred, rubbing his hands up and down Thomas' sides. "Nights are cold, I need my hot water bottle." He said grinning as he fondly patted Thomas' stomach. 

Thomas chuckled in response, "I'll be there in ten." He stifled a needy growl as he watched Newt's uncovered figure saunter back through into their bedroom. Newt was excited about the upcoming party, he was no social mad man, but he enjoyed casual conversation with strangers and group dancing in a way Thomas never could; especially after he had a couple of drinks inside him. With alcohol inside him, Newt would talk to pretty much everyone, and everyone wanted to talk to Newt. The problem for Thomas, was that most people wanted to do a lot more than just talk to the blonde. 

He couldn't blame anyone for wanting, he considered himself eternally lucky to be the one Newt chose to spend his life with, and he trusted Newt completely. However, Newt was far too friendly and trusting of others when drunk, and there were plenty of people who would take advantage of that. Thomas had seen it in the past: the predatory glances, the claiming touches, the dark intentions behind beady eyes. He was afraid that someone would hurt Newt, but it went deeper than that. He hated other people touching Newt, standing too close as they spoke, leaning in hoping for an impromptu kiss - or more. He wished he didn't feel that way, Newt had never shown the slightest bit of interest in anyone else, but the mere prospect of someone else touching his blonde made his blood boil, and at parties, Newt never failed to catch someone's eye. 

* * *

 "Your studying Literature? No way! You should _be_ on book covers, not bothering with whats inside them."

Newt laughed quietly into his drink. "I find the contents much more interesting than the cover. What about you, what are you studying?" He asked the tall man who had sat down next to him on the brown leather sofa not long ago.

"Biology," The newest creep of the night announced, leaning an elbow on Newt's shoulder. "You know all about that right? If not I could show you, I'm good at the practical - and looking at you, I bet you are too." He raised his eyebrows suggestively as he finished the dregs of his beer. "I'm sure we could pass the test, make it last all night." His words were laboured and his breath was intoxicating. 

Thomas put his soft drink down heavily before his tightening grip sent hundreds of small glass fragments into his palm. The sleaze-bag's slurred, yet bold, attempt at flirting with the beautiful blonde next to him was pushing his tolerance levels dangerously to the edge. Thomas wouldn't usually mind a guy trying to pick someone up at a party, it is after all, almost customary to do so. However, when said blonde was his boyfriend, who he had been sitting next to, and getting drinks for, and laughing, dancing, hugging and kissing all night, it really irked him when some slime-ball still thought Newt was on the market.

Current slime-ball number four was reaching Thomas' absolute limit. The first three had simpered away after a harsh cold glare and a protective arm around Newt's waist. This guy however, was either not getting the hints, or was ignoring them for the sake of a challenge.

"Its okay mate, he passed that test years ago." He leaned forward so the man could no longer ignore his presence. "Aced it as well, and with extra credit I can assure you." He winked at the cold glare he received from the man.

Newt just slapped him on the arm, "Tommy! Darren doesn't need to know that."

_Yes he does, he needs to know exactly where he stands._ He put his arm back round Newt's waist and hugged him close, pleased when Newt nestled in, resting his head on his shoulder. The so called Darren frowned as he sat there neglected by his target, Thomas kissed Newt's head, leering over at the other man as he did so.  _'Get lost.'_ He mouthed silently. Darren did not reply, instead he stormed off, giving up on his hopeless mission. 

Leaning back, Thomas brought Newt with him as they cuddled on the sofa. His watch informed him the night was getting late, and the party seemed to be just getting into the swing of things. Every room was full with people dancing and grinding, drinking cheap beer and nasty shots. The smell of hormones and perspiration hung in the air, and Thomas was glad to be stationed in the conservatory with its doors opened for ventilation. The room was large and spacious, and mainly filled with people chilling with drinks on seats instead of dancing, taking a break in the cool evening air. 

They had seen Minho fleetingly, the now twenty one year old had cut his cake, and drunk countless beers, and was now somewhere in the thicket of dancing bodies in the main room. Thomas and Newt had spent the first portion of the evening with Ben and Gally, the three non-drivers working through beer after beer whilst Thomas sipped at his lemonade. There they had bumped into Teresa, when Newt separated to find the dance floor, and Thomas caught up with his childhood friend. Thomas wasn't sure how long they spoke for, but by the time he relocated Newt in the conservatory, he was surrounded by young guys whose intentions were all too plain to see.

Since then, Thomas had batted away suitor after suitor, keeping Newt as close to him as they could. Now as the night drew on, the blonde was growing tired from the alcohol he had consumed. Thomas closed his eyes as Newt rested his head on his chest, the music was still loud, but the open windows brought in a cool wind, and he let himself relax under the comforting weight of his boyfriend. 

"Tom?"

The quiet voice disturbed his short moment of peace. He opened his eyes to find Teresa standing over them, one hand on her hip, another holding a beer bottle. She was not a girl for wine or sweet drinks, Thomas liked that about her. Where most of the girls had worn pretty dresses for the party, with high heels, and ridiculous accessories, Teresa had come in simple jeans, white top and a leather jacket, with boots to match. She wore her dark hair in rivulets, and hanging disc earring clanged quietly as she moved. 

"What's up?" He inquired, sitting up gently. Newt had already sat upright, allowing him to re-position himself. 

"I'm gonna go get a drink, do you want one Tommy?" He asked in an almost robot fashion.

Thomas squeezed the blonde's side gently, he didn't want Newt out of his sight. "I'm good thanks, you sure you want another one?"

"Christ, I can handle my drink Thomas!" Newt said a little too loudly, taking him by surprise before he left to disappear into the louder room.

Thomas watched him walk away, confused and concerned about the man's current state, Newt was not known for outbursts, even when drunk. If anything, alcohol usually made him more sedate.

"What's his problem?" Teresa asked as she took Newt's seat, swigging at her own beer as she did so. 

Thomas shook his head dumbly. "No idea, I should follow him, make sure he's okay."

Teresa put a hand on his arm before he could get up, "Don't be daft, he'll be fine. You two have been glued together all night, let him free for a bit."

He bit his tongue. He didn't want Newt to be free for a bit, not where he couldn't see and look out for trouble.  _There isn't going to be any trouble, there's people everywhere, and Minho, Gally and Ben are in there as well. Stop worrying and let him enjoy himself. Don't be a leash that he'll want to break away from._

"So," Teresa interrupted his thoughts, "I was just wondering if you two were staying here tonight? Gally and Ben aren't, and I don't want to be the only one left to help clean up, this place is going to be an absolute mess."

"Sorry Sis," He used his pet name for her. He had grown up living next door to Teresa, and had always considered her as a sister. They were of the same age, and became close friends early on and had never separated since. "I didn't not drink so I could stay here all night and help the hungover clean up, were gonna make a move soon." He checked his watch again as the minute hand took them into Sunday morning. 

"But Tom! You can't leave me here at the mercy of Minho, please!" She gave him puppy eyes which made him laugh at her. 

"Sorry, that only works if Newt does it." She gave him a wicked grin at that, "Fine. But I'll make you both pay some day, one way or the other." She stood up, leaving her bottle on the side to go find a replacement. "If I'm gonna clean up, I might as well have a good time now." She announced as she danced her way into the crowd of people in the next room.

Thomas sighed, suddenly feeling eerily alone in such a busy house. All around him couples were making out, some departing upstairs for a more private setting. He smiled, his first sexual experience with Newt was at a house party. It was strange, he had once been the guy who chatted Newt up at a party, much like the ones he was battling away tonight. Unlike them he had been successful, and now Newt was his, no-one else's. 

He wondered where his blonde could be, he had half-expected him to retrieve a drink and come straight back, though knowing Newt he was dancing somewhere among the throng of people. Thomas forced himself to leave the quiet tranquility of the conservatory, and rejoin the main body of the party. The music blared loudly from mounted speakers, and most of the free space was take up by moving bodies. He edged his way around the perimeter, looking out for a mass of yellow hair, but the rooms were all dark and he couldn't spot his boyfriend anywhere. 

Leaving the room, he scoured the rest of the house. The kitchen was a corpse of empty beer bottles and plastic wine glasses, the few people in there picking at the leftover pizza from earlier. The bathroom was taken up by a young girl vomiting up her stomach contents, and the upstairs corridors proves just as unfruitful in his search. He came across a very drunk Minho as he descended the main staircase.

"Thomas! Where have ya been buddy? Wanna drink?" He grinned widely as he held up a bottle of vodka, flecks of gold floated in the clear liquid. Thomas shook his head politely. 

"I'm driving remember?"

"Nonsense!" Minho ignored his excuse. "You can sleep here, it's not a problem!"

There was no way Thomas was staying, Teresa might have made her own bed, but he had no intention in lying in it too. "Have you seen Newt?" He changed the subject to his current dilemma. It was nearing twenty past twelve, and there had still been no sign of the blonde. He was beginning to worry, he had been tempted to check the bedrooms upstairs, but in the end he lacked the courage to do so. 

"I think he went out for a smoke a bit ago. He's one heck of a mover once you get some booze in him, you should join in! Here, this stuff is great!" He shook the bottle in his hand. "The gold hurts the throat on the way down, but it soon burns the pain away, and then some!" He laughed as he made his way back into the crowd, leaving a bewildered Thomas staring after him.  _How on earth did we become best friends?_

The cold air hit him hard as he exited through the front door, letting it shut behind him. He had left his jacket in the car, and his short sleeved navy shirt did nothing to shut out the October winds. Wrapping his arms around himself he worked his way around to the side of the house until his nose picked up the familiar scent of smoke and tobacco. It had surprised him when he learnt Newt smoked, for some reason it didn't fit him, until Thomas saw the blonde's lip draw on the end of a cigarette held between delicate fingers. The puffs of smoke he would slowly release from his mouth with half-lidded eyes. The taste of ash mixed with Newt's own sweet lips as they kissed, charring his own mouth as their tongues battled. Then smoking fitted Newt, Thomas thought it fitted him perfectly. 

He went to round the corner when he heard voices. He recognized the British accent clear enough, but the other was not one he was familiar with. Not familiar enough with for Newt to be hanging round the back of the house with anyway, smoker or not.

"I said no!" Newt said, panic lacing the tone of his voice.

"Come on baby, just one night, you know you want to. I can see it in your eyes, you like to play dirty, you can play with me."

Thomas had already rushed to round the corner when a muffled yelp reached his ears. What he saw blinded him with rage, as a bull sees red, he saw murder. Darren had Newt pinned to the wall, using his superior upper body strength to force the blonde still as he groped his rear. Newt was moving frantically, trying to squirm out of the iron grip, his face constantly moving to evade the leeching tongue of his unsavoury suitor. 

Thomas didn't miss a beat. He charged forward, keeping his head low as he tackled Darren to the floor. The leech recovered quickly, snarling as he stood back up, his eyes were wild and Thomas noticed how unsteady he was on his feet. He placed himself in between Newt and his attacker, planting his feet firmly on the ground as he braced himself. 

"Newt, get inside."

Newt was suddenly crying softly, "Come with me Tommy, please. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. He asked for a smoke, and then he was on me. Tommy, please forgive me."

The words broke Thomas' heart. Newt had never given him any cause to question his loyalty. He was tall, blonde and handsome, with soft warm eyes and a heart of gold. He could have any man he wanted, and he had chosen Thomas, and never even looked at another man since. The only think Newt was guilty of was being too nice, too friendly, too approachable for lust-filled creeps such as Darren. He looked round to reassure his boyfriend.

"Newt, you've done nothing to apologize for. Just go back inside, get Minh-"

Pain flew through the right side of his face as Darren's fist landed, knocking him round and onto the floor. He was up in a flash, dirt smeared on his face and adrenaline pumping through his veins. Newt had moved to help him up, but Darren was already lurching towards him again. Thomas leapt up and threw himself over him, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck and pulling him backwards. The man was strong, but Thomas trained on the track team, and he was able to pull him backwards away from Newt. 

"Newt go! Get help!"

The blonde didn't need to be asked again, with one last sad look he spun around and ran back towards the house. Darren spun in a circle with such force Thomas found himself thrown back onto the floor. His head hit the ground with a bang, and his right cheek stung from the earlier punch. He was just able to lift himself up on his elbows when his opponent grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting him inches from the ground. Darren pulled his arm up, his hand closed into an iron fist, and Thomas closed his eyes, ready for the impact and the darkness that would follow. 

"Darren! Get the fuck away from him man!"

Both brawlers looked round to see Minho standing with a baseball bat in one hand, posed ready for anything. if it wasn't for his drunken wavering Thomas would have thought he looked quite intimidating. Luckily, Darren was pissed, and he dropped Thomas like a sack of potatoes. He winced again as his head hit the ground.

"I don't want any trouble man," Minho slurred. "Just go home Darren."

Thomas took the opportunity to scrawl away, making his way over to stand behind Minho. It was then he noticed Newt leaning against the wall around the corner, his mouth turned down and his eyes bright and shining. Thomas forgot all about Darren, and his pains, and ran over to Newt, pulling him into a hug. Newt gripped him firmly, burying his face into the crook of his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Tommy."

He hushed the apologies away. "Come on, lets go inside." He turned round to see Darren skulking down the road, Minho was walking back to them with a cocky grin on his face. 

"Looks like birthday boy saved the day! Guess you owe me one, lets say staying the night?"

Newt let out a broken half sob, half chuckle.

"Were not cleaning up after your party Minho, were going home." Thomas explained, clapping his friend and savior on the shoulder.  _This is why were friends, he'll always have my back, and I will always have his._ He let go of Newt to head back into the house, staggering on his first step as pain seared through his head, he reached out for the blonde again for support.

"Woah, easy there Tommy, lets get you inside."

They ushered him inside, Newt led him back through into the conservatory, placing him down on the brown sofa they had sat on earlier. Most of the guests had left, gone upstairs, or were loitering in the kitchen. Teresa soon joined them, and after hearing what happened, she took over her mother hen routine. 

"Minho, get me a cold compress, pain killers, cotton wool and warm water."

Minho looked at her with a vacant expression. "Come again?"

"I'll help," Newt butted in, "Come Minho, where do you keep your medicine?"

The house was quiet, the music had been turned off to avoid any police call outs from annoyed neighbours. Newt and Minho's departure left just Teresa and himself in the abandoned conservatory. The wall clock there showed the time at one in the morning, much later than he anticipated staying. He let his head rest back on the sofa, keeping his eyes closed. His right eye was heavy and he could only open it half way, he could already feel his cheek swelling, and his back and neck hurt from the fighting. He heard Newt come back with water and cotton before leaving again to find Minho.

"This will sting a bit." Teresa warned as she dabbed a soaked ball of cotton onto his eyebrow. He winced at the contact, he hadn't noticed the cut on his forehead, but the material came away red enough. "

"Stop." He said, clutching her wrist to prevent her from continuing. 

"Tom, I need to clean the wound, stop being a baby." She scolded, but he kept her hand there. Teresa stared at him, trying to force him to submit when a box of tablets and a compress landed roughly in her lap, making her jump. They both looked up to see Newt standing there with his arms folded.

"There, hope that's all you need." He stated, before turning to leave.

Thomas' head was drowned with confusion from the sudden cold reaction, but Teresa seemed to understand much better than he did.

"You two are hopeless sometimes." She muttered. "Newt, take over from me." She stood up and handed him the cotton before he could decline and left the room.

Newt looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry." He sat down where Teresa had been, taking over where she left off. This time Thomas didn't flinch when the cotton made contact with his wound; Newt was gentle and caring with his touches. 

"Stop being sorry. I'm sorry. I spent all night keeping you close, away from everyone else. Then when you did actually need me, I wasn't there." He admitted sadly. 

Newt smiled warmly, "It was a bit awkward, speaking to guys with you wrapped around me like a chimp." 

He sighed, "I know, I just get so jealous when other guys flirt with you, and it happens all the time. They try to touch you, and kiss you, and it just makes me so angry."

Newt retreated with the cotton ball, now red instead of white, and popped two pain killers from their foil casing. He handed Thomas a glass of water and the pills, which he downed eagerly, wishing the pain would ease off a little bit. "Do you not trust me?" Newt asked innocently.

A tear escaped him, a single drop that caressed his swollen cheek. "Yes Newt, I trust you completely. It's everyone else I don't trust. People like Darren, they just don't take no for an answer. I know he was a special case, I promise I'll try to cool it with the jealousy from now on." 

"Don't." Newt's request took him aback. "Don't stop. Can I be honest Tommy? I've never been with anyone who cares about me as much as you do. You protect me, look after me, and love me like no one else ever does. And you know..." He traced a finger down his chest, Thomas shivered at the touch. "I think its hot the way you claim me, your growls and your protective touches stirs something within me."

"Wow..." Thomas blushed, clearing his throat. "I mean... Newt...really?"

Newt's hot lips, hard, yet soft against his own answered his question. They kissed hungrily, bruising each other' as they ravaged their lips, tongues, and necks with hot touches here and there. Newt ran his hands under Thomas' shirt, making him buckle at the touch. He lost himself in Newt, enjoying what was his, and his alone. He figured, he's never be rid of his possessiveness, and this jealousy, but that was okay, because Newt didn't mind. Thomas broke the kiss when his head pounded angrily.

"I think we will need to sleep here, I really don't think I can move, let alone drive tonight." He finally submitted.

"That's okay, we can sleep where we are." Newt patted the sofa. He closed the back doors, shutting out the now too cold air, and grabbed two blankets that had been left draped over an armchair. He squeezed in next to Thomas, covering them with the blankets, snuggling their bodies close together. Thomas let his eyes drift shut, matching his breathing with his boyfriends, as he held him close. 

"Tommy."

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever be sorry for being jealous. Truth is, I'm jealous too. It nothing to be ashamed off, as long as we don't let it take control. It shows we care and love each other, and want nothing to get in our way. So don't stress over it, don't be ashamed of it, and don't apologize for it, because I'm feeling the exact same way. You are beautiful Thomas, and I get scared that someone will steal you away from me. But I know you love me, and I feel safe that you will always be there for me, like I will always be there for you."

Thomas kissed the top of Newt's head. He hadn't realised before, but now he didn't need to ask who Newt had to be jealous of. The way Newt looked sad when Thomas announced Teresa would be coming to the party. How he had swiftly left to get a drink when Teresa had come in to talk to Thomas, and how he had nearly stormed off when the girl was taking care of his injuries  - when they had been holding hands. 

"Trust me Newt, you've got nothing to worry about."

Newt was jealous, he had been blind to it, so focused on his own jealousy to see it. The girl he was so close to, grown up with and hung out with whenever he could. Newt had explained how Thomas' jealousy excited him. Now lying there with Newt pressed up against him, he found the knowledge of the other's jealousy stirred something inside him too.

"Newt." He whispered huskily. "We need to find a bedroom."

 

 

 

 


	26. Can't Remember To Forget You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't Remember To Forget You by Shakira for Demios

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys,
> 
> I know I haven't updated this in months, and the guys who originally asked for these are probably long gone. But hopefully you guys will enjoy them. Haven't written anything in weeks, so please excuse the rust :)
> 
> -The Peddler

The disruptive chorus of cupboard and kitchen drawers rattled through his brain like chalk on slate; intensifying the stabbing pain pulsating around his skull. In his fragile state every sound amplified tenfold, and his roommate seemed to be in no sympathetic mood.

"Minho please!" Newt whined from his slumped position at the kitchen table; his head hidden in the sweet darkness of his own arms. "Do you have to make so much noise?"

His broad shouldered college friend slammed the cutlery draw shut as loud as he could, making Newt jolt upright. He groaned at the daylight that instantly shrouded his vision, turning his sight through closed eyelids from a soothing black to a striking red. He couldn't see, but he knew Minho was smirking triumphantly behind him.

"Feeling a little delicate this morning Newt?" He asked tunefully as he sat down next to the hungover blonde.

"What on earth gave you that idea?" Newt shot back sarcastically as he rested his head back onto the table. "What's the time anyway?"

Minho finished chewing his mouthful of cereal as loudly as he could before clattering his spoon back into his bowl. "Just gone ten." He informed casually.

Newt sat bolt right up at the news, tensing as his cranium screamed in resistance to the sudden movement. "Shit I was meant to be at work three hours ago." He staggered up onto his feet when he realised he was still dressed from the night before. His red shirt was crumpled, and his stressed jeans sported fresh grass stains, and he dared not look at the state of his hair.

"Minho, what time did I come home last night?"

His friend stared at him with a dumbfounded look. "I have no idea, I came out this morning and you were zonked out exactly where you were sitting now."

Newt sat quietly back down in that same seat. "I should call work."

"No need, I've already covered your ass, again. You have a 24 hour bug, make the most of it."

"Thanks Minho." Newt murmured bashfully. Needless to say, it wasn't the first time Minho had accounted for his absence from work. 

"So..." Minho started as he finished his breakfast. "Thomas?" He asked knowingly.

He nodded, bracing himself for what was to come. 

"Newt this has to stop." Minho began his lecture with a sigh. "Every time you go out with him, you come back stinking of booze, drunk as a skunk, and with no memory of any of the crazy shit you get up to. This morning was the eighth time this month I've phoned in to tell your work you can't come in. If this keeps up, you'll lose your job."

"So I'm having a good time, so what? I'm twenty one, I'm allowed to have a little bit of fun aren't I?"

Minho furrowed his brow, blatantly not happy with either Newt's attitude, or the answer he had provided.

"He's irresponsible, and a bad influence. I can never get in contact with you when you saunter off for the whole weekend, or whenever the hell you feel like it, You let him sweep you away with no thought or consideration, I mean this just isn't you Newt. You didn't work your way through college for the job at the museum just to throw it all away for some guy."

"Some guy?" Newt quirked an eyebrow at the dismissive statement. Newt had met Thomas a few months ago at one of Minho's work parties he had been dragged along to. He had been bored and felt out of place, and had encountered Thomas at the buffet table where he was also bored and felt out of place. They had spent the rest of the evening eating cake, and the rest of the night in a hotel room, and had been seeing each other ever since. 

"He's bad for you Newt, and you know it. Your brain tells you so, but you don't want to listen to it so you drown it out with alcohol, pretending that you're having fun."

Newt could only stare at his increasingly agitated friend as the words laced with truth hit him in the stomach. Minho rolled his eyes as he shuffled on his jacket and grabbed his keys. "Look. whatever Newt, I'm gonna go do the weekly shop before I have to start work. It's your turn, but you're obviously too hungover to do it, again."

"Min-" The closing of the front door cut him off short, and he settled for traipsing into his bedroom, and changing into his pyjamas before collapsing on his bed. He wanted sleep, but it did not come. Instead his mind raced with fragmented memories from the weekend.

Thomas has whisked him away on the Friday, promising a surprise romantic weekend away. Newt remembered drinking too much at cocktail bars and night clubs where they danced closely together. He remembered running through fountains, skinny dipping in a lake, and finally making love in a public park. The last memory made his cheeks blush, but it explained the grass stains. 

Thomas was fun, and spontaneous, always catching him off guard and whisking him away with sweet gestures and exciting activities. But Minho was right, Newt was getting dangerously close to losing his dream job for a pair of doe deer eyes and strong, warm arms. 

 _'Minho's right, I need to cool things off with Thomas_.' He thought to himself quietly as he drifted off to sleep.

Not more than an hour after falling asleep the doorbell woke him up, along with his headache. "You have got to be kidding me." He groaned as he glanced at the clock. He shuffled to the front door, feeling double his actual age, and opened the door to stop the repeating shrill sound of the bell.

Behind the door he met soft brown eyes, a warm smile and the sweet smell of freshly ground coffee emanating from the cup holder in the man's hand. Newt blinked several times, making sure he wasn't still dreaming. 

"Hey sleepy, may I come in?" Thomas' gentle voice sang from behind a cheeky grin. 

"Uh- yeah, sorry Tommy, come in." Newt stumbled to one side to let Thomas by. Newt closed the door behind him and rested his head on the wood. He had not expected to see Thomas so soon, and he had no idea how he managed to look so good when he felt so crappy. 

"You look how I feel." Thomas commented as he placed his goods on the table and snuck his jacket off. 

"Well you look how I wish I felt." Newt commented, earning a chuckle form the other.

"Yeah, you did look a bit worse for wear last time I saw ya. Didn't think you'd make it into work, so I brought you some coffee and bagels."

Newt rubbed his hand up and down his arm nervously as he watched Thomas faff around with the food he had bought.

"Wow Tommy, that's really sweet of you, but I need to talk to you. See, I really should have been at work today, and I can't keep -"

Thomas finished rustling inside the paper bags and looked up, completely oblivious to Newt's ramblings. "Sorry Newt I wasn't listening, could you grab some plates for these bagels and we can talk over breakfast. I got you smoked salmon and cream cheese on black pepper and sesame, that's your favorite right?"

Newt gazed into warm eyes peering up from the opened paper bag. Warm brandy eyes filled with concern and hope that he had remembered his boyfriends favourite bagel correctly. The same eyes that had smiled at him as they had danced together. The same smile Thomas wore when he bought Newt dinner and drinks. The same Tommy who had caressed him and touched him so sweetly under the starry sky. His Tommy. 

"Sure is Tommy, thanks. I'll grab those plates." 

They sat down together, surrounded by warm aromas of freshly baked dough and coffee beans, and Newt quickly felt his headache dissipate. He was daydreaming when Thomas' warm hands covered his own.

"Newt?"

"Hm?" 

"Um, you said earlier you wanted to talk?"

"Oh." Newt shook his head, captivated in Thomas' presence and care. "I was just going to thank you for a great weekend. I had a lot of fun. At least, what I remember of it was."

Thomas smiled at him. "Me too." The brunette started to stroke Newt's skin almost nervously. "Listen, Newt. I came over this morning, because I wanted to tell you something that I've never told you before. 

Newt frowned slightly at the turn in conversation. "What is it?"

Soft, coffee flavoured lips captured his in a sweet morning kiss. It lasted a short few moments before Thomas pulled away. "I love you Newt."

"What?" Newt spluttered. 

"I was just thinking this morning about how wonderful this weekend was Newt. How much fun it was, and how I love spending time with you. That night in the park, you and me under the stars, I've never felt anything so special. So... yeah, I love you."

Thomas' words flooded Newt's mind with not just memories of their weekend, but their entire relationship, and all of the time they spent together amounted to one obvious result. 

"I love you too Tommy."

Thomas' pearly smile sent shivers down his spine as he was pulled into another kiss, only this one was longer and deeper than before. A thought entered his mind and he broke the kiss laughing. 

"What?" Thomas asked, bewildered.

Newt grinned stupidly. "Minho is gonna kill me."

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope its not too bad!  
> Love that song :D


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